Fallout: The Retaliation
by Amaturnoveldude
Summary: It has been six months since the events of Broken Steel. The Enclave is gone, the Super Mutants nearly non-existent. The Capital Wasteland is slowly moving towards being a thriving society, but the Lone Wanderer is still alone. The only one who seems to want to help is Sentinel Lyons. But as she gets closer to him, an old enemy emerges. MLW/Sarah Lyons eventually. Reviews welcomed.
1. Intro

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Fallout License. That property belongs to Bethesda.  
Authors Notes:** **Hi, and thank you for taking your time to read this. I've been on this site for quite some time and figured I'd give it a shot of writing a story of my own. Please leave reviews on what i can improve upon or any story suggestions or things you'd like to see. Grammar is one of my weaker spots as a writer but I hope this activity will help me correct it. Anyways thanks again, and review on what you liked or hate.  
**

* * *

It has been six months since the destruction of the Adams Air force base. Since then the Brotherhood of Steel, along with assistance from the Lone Wanderer have managed to drive off both the Enclave Remnants and Super Mutant war bands that once crippled the Capital Wasteland. The Brotherhood has been slowly building connections with the small settlements through out the wasteland, as they attempt to start a thriving society. It has been nearly a month since there had been any reported Super Mutant activity, and with the Lone Wanderer going on a violent crusade against the few raider tribes that littered the area, the Capital Wasteland looked as if it would finally be allowed to flourish. This was simply a prelude for the war to come.

* * *

Sentinel Sarah Lyons of the Brotherhood had been busy filing and signing off paper work for the past two months, as opposed to gunning down and eliminating Super Mutants. She sighed as she almost missed the excitement of those moments. Ever since the purge of Vault 87 she had been relocated to Rivet City, confined to a small office filling out paper work for the Brotherhood. She had placed Paladin Vargas in charge, and last she heard the rest of the Pride was being sent all across the wastes doing God knows what. She looked up from the latest patrol schedule she had been writing and glanced about her quarters. It was nothing fancy, a small bed with a nightstand upon which her laser pistol laid, a bathroom with a mirror, a footlocker and an armor rack which held her T-45 power armor up right. Simple and efficient, just the way she liked it.

She set her pencil down and stood up from her desk, striding over to a small porthole that overlooked the Platomic. She could see off in the distance the site of Project Purity, and the Washington Monument was just barely in her sight. She pulled her gaze away and entered the bathroom. "Just another day in paradise…." She muttered as she run the water in the sink and splashed it on her face. Running her hands along her face she look up at the mirror before her and frowned, her fingers tracing the distinct features of her face and the faint scars that laid upon them. She had never shared it with anyone, but at her core she felt so alone, so incomplete. At first she was able to cover it up by being the best soldier for the Brotherhood she could be, but since the incident at the purifier, she had felt inadequate. She shook a little remembering the day when she witnessed the Wanderer wade into a chamber flooded in lethal radiation and activate Project Purity.

Both of them were sent into comas for over two weeks, with the Wanderer awakening before her and even spearheading an assault on Adam's Air force Base, the last Enclave stronghold in the Capital Wasteland. She had recovered at the very end and was the first one to greet him once he completed his mission. A small part of her was jealous that he had done all of this, while she laid in a sickbay unconscious and unable to assist at all. "The Lone Wanderer…" She muttered, her eyes hardened as her thoughts strayed to him. Despite knowing him for nearly a year, the Wanderer refused to let anyone know his name; hell barely anyone in the Wasteland had even seen his face. Even the dog tags he received from the Brotherhood had him listed simply as The Wanderer. Last she had heard, Three Dog was raving that he had been "Busy fighting the good fight". That was over a month ago and since then she noticed that raider attacks on Aqua Pura caravans had plummeted.

She pulled herself away from the mirror and laid on her bed. Her mind still lingering on the Wanderer, when suddenly a loud knocking on the steel bulkhead to her room broke her from her daze.

"Sentinel….It's me….can I come in?"

Lyons froze, she hadn't heard his voice in quite a while. She eased up out of bed and made her way to the door, unlocking it in an instant. She smirked as she looked at the armored behemoth before her.

"Damn kid, its been a while."

The Lone Wanderer stood before her, his T-45 armor had numerous dents and impact points from what the Sentinel could imagine could be from all kinds of firearms. In his suit he towered over her by a full foot, even without the armor on she knew he had nearly a full head over her. She could see that his Gauss rifle was strapped over his shoulder.

The Wanderer merely nodded and stood patiently, as if waiting for something. Sarah shook her head and stepped to the side. "At ease soldier, come on in and sit your ass down. You deserve a break." The armed and weary warrior entered, and with that she slammed the bulkhead shut.

* * *

Off the East Coast of the country once know as America a lone ship, its hull completely covered in thick metal plates Its inhabitants kept safe under a dome of steel; a relic from a world long gone. In it carried the final remnants of Americas Government, the Enclave, a sadistic organization bent on dominating the carcass of the nation its founders once ruled. Though there losses were heavy following the death of President Richardson and the destruction of Adams Airforce Base, the newly form Enclave Congress has gathered their remaining forces on board a prewar experimental weapon, _The Neptune,_ a submersible aircraft carrier. With this weapon and its remaining forces this Congress sets its sights on reclaiming the formal capital of America and with it, eradicate the inhabitants, including the Capital Wastelands savior, the Lone Wanderer.


	2. Reunion

**Authors notes:** **Just noticed a few mistakes I made and corrected them, did the same for Chapter 4.  
**

* * *

The Wanderer removed the clamps on his helmet and yanked the block of metal off his head. He run his hands through his short cut hair as he took a sit within Lyon's office. Fortunately the Sentinel had a reinforced steel chair that could barely manage the weight of his suit. Lyons smiled as she saw him being careful to not break the furniture under the massive weight of his armor. Sarah had to admire him though, despite all the hell the Wanderer had been through he had very few scars to show for it. He had a slight tan to his skin, bright green eyes, and had a almost boyish look to his face. He was a spitting image of his father excluding the distinct scar that ran just over his right eye down to his cheekbone. He was actually quite handsome, but there was no way in hell she would ever let him know that. If she recalled her father compared him to some prewar singer, Frank Sinopera or something. She saw him police his Gauss Rifle against one of the rooms many steel girders and decided to jump straight to the point.

"So, what brings you to my little slice of hell?"

He glanced up at Sarah and studied her for a moment. She was wearing a Brahmin leather outfit, with her hair tied back just she would do when they were out on patrol. He could also see the dark circles under her eyes and it appeared as if she had lost weight. He hadn't seen her in two months, but from what he knew she hadn't seen any combat since then, so why was she so sickly looking?

"I had finished my assignment and I wanted to let you know that I had found a stray pack of mutants. Caught them setting up camp just at the outskirts of that old slaver outpost up north."

The Wanderer saw the Sentinel grin.

"Are you asking me out on a date?"

He merely shrugged. "If that's what you want to think of it as. I know your father has you up to your neck in paperwork, just figured you could use a break."

Sarah noticed something when he said that last line, almost as if he was hesitating.

"Is that all?"

The young man nodded. "If your wondering if your father sent me that is a negative ."

Lyons breathed a sigh of relief. _Well that's fortunate._ Since the whole business with the Enclave wrapped up her father's health had been declining. Part of the reason he had her transferred her was so she wouldn't have to see him in such a frail condition. She shook the depressing thoughts from her mind. She wasn't sure if the Wanderer had read the expression on her face, but if he did he didn't comment.

"So, are you up for some mutant hunting? Killing raiders got old quick."

Sarah chuckled as she took a seat behind her desk.

"I figured that's what you were up to. Three Dog has been rambling on and on about you and his 'Good Fight'."

She saw a smile spread across his face, a rare sight indeed.

"He means well, but I wish he would stop mentioning me so much, people like you and the Pride have been around longer than I have. You deserve the recognition."

Sarah opened up one of the drawers and pulled out five energy cells while he was talking.

"If your done with the flattery I've had enough of the office for today, I'm ready to go kill some damn muties."

The Wanderer nodded began to reassemble his armor. Sarah opened up her footlocker and pulled out her old recon armor. She took it into her bathroom and shut the door as she began to change. _This is just what I needed._ She thought. _A busy woman like me has earned a day off._

* * *

Major Allen Whitley had only been called before Congress once as far as he could remember, when he had first been sworn in as a member of Omega Squad. He made his way through the narrow corridors of the _Neptune_. Barely being able to squeeze his Mark III armor through the hatches of the vessel. The submersible carrier was designed by the Poseidon Oil Company for only regular enlisted personal, not for the power armored monstrosities that had to patrol the entire damn thing. This annoyance was only made worse due to Omega Squad having to wear the new Mark III armor, which combined the thick plating and look of the first model with the light weight and power output of the Mark II, along with a few new benefits.

After managing to make it to the bridge of the ship, he came upon two of members of his squad stationed at the entrance to the meeting chambers; Lieutenant's Aran Staples and Shawn Davis. The two snapped a crisp salute as they keep their plasma rifles steady by their side. He returned the gesture as he placed his palm on the scanner of the door. This process always took forever. He tapped the side of his helmet to open up a local com frequency with the two of his comrades. One of the benefits of the Mark III was that the designers behind it had managed to link all of the suits to one another with their own radio frequency, making it easier than ever to coordinate attacks between squad members.

"Staples, Davis. How is our Congress doing?"

Staples was the first to reply.

"I haven't seen them this excited since they authorized the Air Force Base for operations."

He heard a sigh come from Davis.

"I hope they don't try to launch another incursion. We've lost too many already." Whitley nodded.

"Be careful who you say that around Davis, you all know what happened at Dixon."

The major saw the two stiffen at that, effectively ending the conversation. Ensign Andrew Dixon was the youngest, and one of the more vocal, members of Omega Squad. So vocal was he, that he thought it wise to argue with Congress after a mission nearly killed the entire squad. Needless to say they were not pleased, and gave him over for the research department for FEV testing. Congress had never told them that though, Whitley found out first hand when he stumbled across the research labs while testing the Mark III.

Allen shivered at the memory.

The ships computer finally granted him access as the door before him slid open. He nodded to his squad mates as he strode through the opening. It was the same room as it was years ago. Pitch black with five monitors providing the only source of light in the room. Displayed on these monitors where the five remaining congressmen from the Enclave; those who had survived the purge of the West and were now the only power left to control the Enclave. Whitley took a knee before the view screens before him as one of the Congressmen spoke, with an elderly tone.

"Ah, Major. We are so glad you could answer our summons today. We have some exciting news to tell you." Another voice joined in, this one sounded like a middle aged woman.

"Yes, it seems that we have located Colonel Augustus Autumn on the mainland."

Major Whitley looked up, behind his helmet he had a look of surprise. Colonel Autumn was thought to of been killed in defending the Jefferson Memorial, his death was one of the driving factors behind the Enclave being driven off the main land. A third voice now entered the fray before the major could say anything, this time a younger man spoke.

"It seems our once leader has been living in exile in the outskirts of Baltimore, and Sigma squad is regrettably assisting in defending him."

Something pinged in the back of Whitley's mind; _Sigma Squad? That can't be right._ A forth louder voice cut in.

"Your mission is to extract the Colonel and bring him here. He has much to answer for."

Whitney nodded. He had so many questions, but he knew better than to ask Congress. Any time of theirs you wasted was guaranteed trouble later on.

"I understand sirs, but how would you like us to deal with Sigma Squad?"

The voice of former President John Henry Eden answered him from the final screen

"We don't care how you deal with them Major, just remove them from the field of play and bring Autumn to us."


	3. A Nation Divided

**Update 5/10/17: I realized that I had made an error and some things didn't line up as well as I liked them.  
**

* * *

The council room of the Citadel had a body in each of its twelve seats. Elder Owyn Lyons sat at the head, to his right sat his old friend Head Scribe Reginald Rothchild, and to his left Star Paladin Cross. Before him were Sheriff Lucas Simms of Megaton, a woman who went by the name of "Red" from Big Town, Ernest Roe of Canterbury Commons, Horace Pinkerton of Rivet City, and Evan King of Arefu. Pinkerton and Simms seemed to be the only two that were at ease with the situation. The remaining wasters traded looks of suspicion, between the Brotherhood leaders and one another.

Behind them Paladin's Vegas and Hoss stood on watch over the proceedings. A newly wielded steel door had been installed at the entrance of the room keeping the conversation away from eavesdroppers. The elder glanced over at his long time friend, and received a nod in reply. Lyons smiled weakly as he cleared his throat.

"I'd like to thank all of you for coming today, I know the Brotherhood has not always been trusted, but this meeting is to a mere stepping stone towards a greater future. I know that you have all struggled greatly in the past few years, but seeing as the wasteland has been purged of both the Enclave and the Super Mutants, I ask that we begin to forge a union from one settlement to another as we take the first steps in reestablishing society."

The Brotherhood elder look around the room, trying to see if anyone of these individuals had grasped the meaning of what he had just purposed. Sheriff Simms removed his hat as he shot a look towards Lyons.

"With all due respect Elder Lyons, I really appreciate the work you and your men have done for all of us in Megaton. I'm afraid I can't say I can trust any of the folks in this room with the lives of my people. If you catch my drift."

With that he sat back in his chair and placed his hat back on his head. Owyn couldn't see it but the Megaton sheriff's eyes were trained directly on Pinkerton.

Ernest Roe stood up and looked around the room cautiously, before speaking aloud.

"To be honest I'd feel more comfortable if the Wanderer was here Elder. He was the only reason I actually agreed to come."

At that a stream of murmurs began to go about the room. Red spoke out next.

"If it weren't for him our settlement would have been wiped out by the mutants months ago. Meanwhile, you Brotherhood assholes stayed locked up in your fortress and barely sent us any of your damn water!"

This seemed to set off Evan King.

"You watch your damn mouth little lady. If it weren't for the Brotherhood you wouldn't even be alive. They saved our asses more times than I care to count, and they deserve your utmost respect."

The Big Town Representative was not amused. Red stood up, only to quickly draw a .32 caliber revolver seemingly out of no where.

"You can shut your damn mouth old man! You don't know half of the shit I've been through!"

Vargas and Hoss both pointed their laser rifles at the armed woman. Simms stood up from his chair and moved to intervene.

"Easy there Red, no need for anyone to get hurt now."

The two paladins exchanged glances with one another before Vargas barked out a demand.

"Ma'am put your weapon down!"

Vargas swore mentally, he could have sworn that they screened everyone that had come in.

Lyons attempted to calm the situation down. "People please, let's try to be civil here."

Red glanced over at the two paladins who had their slights trained on her, then to Simms before sighing. She lowered the gun, which Simms snatched away from her instantly.

"Congratulations, you just made the smartest decision of your life."

As he made his way back to his seat, Simms thumbed the safety on and tossed the handgun to Hoss, who snatched it out of the air.

"Next time check the boot straps, little trick we wasters pick up."

As the Megaton protector sat down both Lyons and Rothchild breathed a sigh of relief. Lyons had barely stopped Cross from lunging up at the young armed woman. He was also now painfully aware of the awkward silence that hovered through the room. Which was only broken when Pinkerton stood up and began to walk out the door. Rothchild attempted to halt him.

"Rivet City Representative, this meeting isn't over yet. Please return to your seat."

Pinkerton merely look back at him and scoffed.

"My apologies, but I can tell right now, there's not a damn thing getting done today. I'll be in my quarters once everyone's done acting like children."

With that Pinkerton stepped out of the room. Leaving the others to bask in the awkward silence for a few moments longer.

Lyons noticed Cross seemed to tense up at the mans words as he put a calming hand upon her shoulder. The Brotherhood elder sighed.

"This meeting is ajorn-"

Owyn was cut short by a coughing fit, he grabbed his handkerchief from within his robes and covered his mouth with it. Rothchild seeing his friend in such a condition put a reaffirming hand on his back.

"This meeting is adjourned we shall continue this discussion at a latter date."

Looks of confusion were all about the room as one by one the representatives cleared out. After a moment the coughing subsided, Elder Lyons was seated back in his chair by Paladin Cross. Vargas and Hoss simply nodded to the Star Paladin before taking posts outside the room. Lyons' trembling hand dropped the small cloth, Rothchild picked it up and was distraught to find it smeared with blood. "Owyn this is madness, why won't you let Sarah handle this. I told you already, you can't handle the stress with your body as weak as it is. The cancer can be treated, but you need to rest."

The elder raised his hand to silence his friend, taking a moment to regain his breath.

"No, I refuse to deprive my daughter of anymore of her time….. All she has known her entire life is fighting, and that is no life to live. This is the first real peace she has experienced in her entire life. No….this was my dream and I will not force my child to live it out for my sake."

Rothchild sighed. "At least go through with the treatments, I'm begging you Owyn. If we lose you, our entire operation will be in shambles. Please, just do it for your friend."

The scribe watched as his dearest and oldest friend seemed to sag as the words fell upon his ears.  
"Reginald, I need sometime to think on it. I also need to tell Sarah, she deserves to know. Cross would you mind helping me to my quarters?"  
The Cyborg woman replied automatically as she drew his arm over her shoulder and gave him support.  
"Of course Elder Lyons, anything else you require?"  
Lyons shook his head. "No, no that's all I require."  
Lyons said one final word to Rothchild as he was lead away. "Ask for the Wanderer, we need him here."

* * *

After what felt like hours the Wanderer finally came to a stop in front battered old cabin, its door old and worn. Sarah breathed a sigh of relief, she was still not one hundred percent after so much time stuffed up in an office. The once familiar bulk of her armor felt strange to her, which was not a good sign, she had a lot of catching up to do. She had no clue how long they had been traveling, only knew that it was noon when they had departed Rivet City, and that the sun had set a few hours ago.

"We'll camp here for tonight, I'll set up."  
The Wander said plainly. He drew a key out from within his armors chest slot and unlocked the door, before reaching out and pushing on the aged wood. It creaked softly as it opened up. He made his way inside and tossed a duffel bag on the rough floorboards of the shack. Sarah followed soon after and shut the door behind her, making sure to lock it. For a moment she was in pitch blackness before the Wanderer lite a lantern that sat in the middle of the room in a rather exotic looking jar. The Sentinel was surprised at how spacious the building actually was.

It was about a twenty by twenty-five foot room, with two double beds line up at the end of the room and a set of lockers on the along the right back corner. A lone table set off to the right front corner of the cabin, with three chairs surrounding it. A reloading bunch was pushed off to the middle left side of the room, with a drawer that had various labels attached to each drawer. Sarah made her way to one of the beds at the end of the room and began to remove the plating of her armor. She heard the Wanderer mumble something about 'slobs' and mention some woman named Shannon before reorganizing the messy workbench. After a moment he brought his bag over and set it beside one of the beds.

There was eerie silence about the room, which was occasionally broken by the hollowing of the wind or the creaking of wood. Sarah was getting tired out the silence, at least with the Pride she had some kind of feedback from her squad mates. She watched as he unfastened his helmet and began to remove his armor, taking time to rest his rifle beside his bed.

"Did you build this place yourself?"

He looked up at her before replying.

"Well, yes and no. I had help. Made it little by little the two months out of what was left of the raider forts I took over." Sarah froze as she glanced down at the seemingly clean mattress.

"Except for the beds, got these from a guy I know."

The blonde breathed a sigh of relief knowing that. She was still curious about a few things though. For the longest time she had wanted to know just who the Wanderer was. All she knew about him after almost a year consisted of a small list: He was an excellent shooter, a Knight Commander within the Brotherhood, damn good at hand to hand, his father had created Project Purity, he came from one of the local vaults, and that he was a one tough bastard to put down.

"Has my father made you a paladin yet?"

"No, mostly because Dusk would cause a shit storm if I made Paladin before her. Not that I care to be honest."

Sarah chuckled at that. Dusk was a good soldier, a damn good shot too. Lyons would be kidding herself, however, if she said the young woman wasn't a pain in the ass from time to time.

"I'm surprised, you have enough skill to beat most the paladin's one on one. I'm guessing you don't care for promotions though, seeing as how busy you are." She smirked, taking a moment to remove her breastplate. She heard the Wanderer sigh.

"Well, I don't really fit in with the Brotherhood. You know that already."

Sarah removed the leg plates of the suit now, her mind analyzing the Wanderers' words.

"Doesn't mean you can't try, right?"

She turned away from him, storing the pieces of her armor away.

"Trust me, it wouldn't work. I'm not a people person."

"Well, what kind of person are you?" Sarah asked, as she took her laser rifle and set it on her lap, as she began fiddling around with the power settings; never could be too careful with the feedback loops after all.

Sarah was surprised at how long it took him to respond. She had just put the casing back on her rifle when the Wanderer finally answered.

"I...I couldn't tell you to be honest."

Sarah paused at that and sighed. She propped her gun up against the side of her bed. She turned back and looked at the Wanderer.

"Fight me."

She made sure her expression wasn't going to be taken as a joke. The Wanderer seemed to think it was.

"Sentinel?"

Lyons' raised an eyebrow at him.

"Was I not clear enough, knight commander? I said, fight me."

The Wanderer blinked once, then twice, before speaking.

"No, I heard that. I am asking why."

Sarah shook her head.

"Well...I don't know if you can tell, but you can learn a lot in how a person holds themselves. Right foot forward, arms at eye level suggest eagerness to engage. Right foot back with hands at chest level suggest a more defensive outlook at a situation. The way you throw punches, elbows, kicks. There's little bits of personality that people carry with them, and it all comes out in physically fighting."

The Wanderer let out a sigh.

"Let me guess, even if I refuse, you're going to order me to."

Sarah smiled and stiffened a laugh.

"You're damn right. Now quit your mopping, or you can keep mopping and I'll just kick your ass. Up to you really."

"This is ridiculous."

"Excuse me?"

"This is ridiculous, Sentinel Lyons."

"Much better."

* * *

 **Authors Notes: Wow already at chapter three, thank you to everyone who has been reading. I plan to update regularly if my schedule allows me. Please review and let me know if there are any characters you want to see or any thing you think needs improvement. Until next time. :)**


	4. Reflections and Deceptions

The silence from within the vertibird was maddening. Major Whitley glanced around at his four man squad. His eyes hovered on the newest member, Master Sergeant Matthew Howard. He had read through he man's service record multiple times.

Howard had been enlisted since the start of the Capital Wasteland campaign, and according to a few sources actually survived an encounter with the dreaded 'Lone Wanderer'. The veteran sergeant was selected to take Dixon's place as heavy weapon specialist, Lieutenant Aran Staples served as a medic and spotter for fellow Lieutenant Shawn Davis, who acted as the scout and sniper of the team. Omega was originally a six man unit, but the war with the Brotherhood had thinned the ranks dangerously low. As such, some slots on the team were still open, and would be for some time.

The major glanced at the digital map behind him; they still had twenty minutes before they hit the drop off point. They had been crammed in the cabin of the bird for nearly two hours, with all their equipment and gear in tow. Since boarding not a single one of them had said a word. He understood completely the reason behind the dead quiet. It was becoming more and more frequent that Congress was sending them out to eliminate so called "rouge" Enclave members. What bothered him more while some of them without a doubt traitors, the others were more questionable. He immediately thought back to his assassination of a Lieutenant Joy McNeil who, according to Congress, was refusing to follow orders.

Whitley recalled it being one of his first assignments as the leader of Omega, he remembered being so excited he had studied and read up on the young officer. He broke the first rule of elimination missions, never get close to the target. He had memorized her entire military jacket, from battles she had been in, to her leadership scores from the academy, all the way down to her appearance. The major recalled her having bright blue eyes, the kind an angel should have. She kept her blonde hair cut short due to the constant state of war she was in, and she was gorgeous in every sense of the word. Whitley had spent weeks tracking her though out the wastes of Virginia before managing to find her, he had made her his obsession. Once his squad found her, however, they learned that this simply was untrue. The supposed 'rouge' had explained that their vertibird had been shot down during the evacuation of Adams Air Force Base and, without the ability to contact HQ for orders, she was leading her men towards the closest communication outposts.

Unfortunately, Omega squad was under orders to eliminate these 'traitors' with no exceptions being allowed. He wondered what would have happened if he simply returned to base, lying to Congress that she had been dealt with; would they of believed him. It didn't matter now, up until that point he was arrogant. He had believed that orders were to be followed to letter, there was no room for circumstances; dangerous thinking like that was what got his father killed when Navarro fell. Instead, at the time he thought was clever thinking, he convinced the Lieutenant and her men that they were free to go, and apologized for the mistake. Believing the matter dealt with, McNeil began to lead her squad away.

The Enclave major wondered what she would have done if she knew the truth. The moment McNeil and her squad had begun to walk away, Whitley and his team opened fire on them. It was to be a quick death for the small group, except that McNeil had survived the initial attack. She was in horrible pain as energy burns had completely vaporized her from the waist down, but her upper body had remained intact, her skin almost none existent. He remembered her blue eyes almost glaring into his soul, the pure rage behind those eyes still haunted him, and then she started screaming. Whitley was left with no choice but to put her out of his misery, and the entire time she starred defiantly into his eyes.

The major shook the distant memories out of his head, it had been five months and he still had nightmares about the incident. _Just let it go, focus on the now_. He told himself, he felt those dark memories begin to creep up on him again. _Twenty minutes, just wait twenty more minutes and you'll make it_. He sighed and dug his armored fingers into the chair. He wondered if his squad mates thought of him as a murderer. They wouldn't be wrong, at this point they all had a special place in Hell waiting for them. There was one thing that he had always wondered though, one thing he always kept at the back of his mind. He was taught since birth that only those inside the vaults and those born within the Enclave were considered American citizens, everyone else was an outsider and was to be eradicated or controlled. For most of his life he had believed that, but recently he was having second thoughts. In that exact instant the vertibird hit a pocket of turbulence, everything in the cabin shook as the small craft dropped a few dozen feet before catching itself. The major shook the thoughts away that was a clear sign for to him to stop thinking. He couldn't afford to start doubting his beliefs; he had a mission to do.

* * *

Sarah had just learned something new about the Wanderer, the man knew how to cook. Having went out and brought back a mole rat corpse within minutes, he expertly skinned and prepared its meet. She hadn't seen him prepare the whole thing, but whatever he had done, it was one of the best meals she had eaten in a while. Downing a one of their many bottles of Aqua Pura, she placed her recon armor on her bed. She than made her way to the center of the room, standing opposite of the Wanderer. The candle which had been lighting the entire building over onto the table in the corner, casting a eerie shadow on the other side of the room. The blonde woman hadn't seen the Wanderer with this little equipment on, and was impressed by his physique. He checked the time on his Pipboy before carefully removing it, and placing it on the work bench, before returning to their designated fighting ring.

"Alright, according to this, the time is 11:53 P.M. and based on our location we are partially in between the Scrapyard, and Bethesda Ruins…so we should arrive at the mutant camp in about two days if we go at this pace."

Sarah nodded in understanding, but there was one thing she was curious about.

"Have you always been able to take that thing off?"

The former vault dweller gave her a look of confusion before answering.

"Yea, why?"

Lyons was about to say something, but decided against it.

"Never mind. Let's just get to the part where I kick your ass."

The Paragon of the Wastes simply maintained a calm face as he took up a fighting stance, the sentinel did the same in return. The two trained warriors stood only a few feet apart from each other in the center of the cabin, down to only their recon suits.

Sarah smirked at him.

"So, just to make this interesting...when I win, how about you tell me what your name is?"

The Wanderer's face merely hardened at that.

"If that's what you want, then I'm definitely not letting you win."

The Lyons Pride leader exhaled before stepping forward and throwing a punch aimed squarely at the Wanderer's face. To her surprise, the young man side stepped it easily even managing to get a hold of her wrist and forearm with both his hands before stepping out and throwing her entire body over his hips; sending her sprawling on the wooden floor. The veteran soldier was baffled as she felt herself being thrown off her feet. She managed to flip over his hip toss and landed on her heels. Then immediately pressed off them and rammed her head in the Wanderer's nose; braking the cartilage with a wicked snap. He immediately let go of her arm as he stumbled back a little, a trail of blood beginning to trickle out of his left nostril. He shot her a dirty look. Sarah smirk back in satisfaction.

"Oh come on, I could do so much worse to you."

"So, that's how it's going to be?"

Sarah chuckled and rolled her shoulders. "Oh come on, don't be so dramatic."

The Wanderer stepped up to Sentinel Lyons and threw an elbow that connected with her jaw. She threw back an punch of her own caught him right in the windpipe. As his head went down in reaction Sarah threw her knee up at just the right time to nail him right on his broken nose. A large splatter of blood gushed from the wound and sprayed on the wooden floor.

"Son of a bitch!" He swore, before throwing a powerful punch that connected with the side of Sarah's head, it had came in so fast she barely registered it. The blow sent her stumbling back as the world spun around her. Her vision blurred and she was unable to see anything. She felt a strong hand wrap around her right shoulder. She manage to catch herself before falling, as she kicked out her leg and hooked it around the Wanderer's own. She threw out an elbow directly behind her and was rewarded by the blow nailing the man in the ribs. She stepped away from him and unhooked her leg from him as her vision started to come back into focus. She had to give him credit, he almost had her. The young man rubbed his bruised side before looking back up at Lyons.

"Your doing pretty good, for someone who hasn't seen action in a few months."

Sarah was about to reply before a fist came flying at her. She managed to dodge it as it grazed her cheek. Then the Wanderer followed through with a knee into her gut, causing her to keel over as the hit knocked the wind out of her. The last thing Lyons saw was the ground rushing up at her, as she felt something hard smash into the back of her head.

* * *

 **Author Notes: I know the action thus far has been rather lackluster, but be patient with me. I have all kinds of awesome awaiting you guys. Next chapter will make up for it. :)  
**


	5. Guilty Conscience

**Author Notes: Okay, so i kinda lied. Action is coming in the next chapter, which will be up sometime this week. Good news is that this chapter is the longest yet, over 3,000 words, so enjoy. Please leave reviews, favorite or follow if you like it that much. Either way thanks just for taking your time to read this. Hope you enjoy.  
**

* * *

The Wanderer froze as he felt Sarah's body go limp up the impact of his elbow. He quickly set her down on her back, as his thoughts became panicked.

 _Shit, not again. Please not again._

Kneeling down beside her he checked for a pulse, and breathed a sigh of relief once he felt it. Killing had almost become second nature to him, at first he had been holding back against her, but he had let just too much of it out and nearly killed one of his allies. This wasn't the first time it had happened, as poor Sticky from Little Lamplight had been the on the receiving side. He grimaced as he picked up Sarah's unconscious form and placed her in bed. He dug through his pack and drew out a stimpack. He slid the needle into her neck and injected into her system to aid her recovery. He covered her with a sheet and made his way to the lockers. He felt a great amount of sympathy for the sentinel, part of the reason he had brought her was because of the situation with her father. He opened one of the lockers and pulled out an old ham radio, he brought it to the other side of the room and began to set it up. As he went about the task of fiddling with the dials and plugging and unplugging the microphone his thoughts still weighed in on the sleeping Lyons. She reminded him so much of _her_. The Wanderer winced at the thought before pushing it away.

 _No, just forget about them, you didn't need them then and you don't need them now._

After some tinkering with the old machine he finally got it to turn on, as a buzz of static came through. Slowly he turned the dial to the frequency he wanted. Taking the microphone he hoped the thing still worked as he spoke into it.

"Charon, come in Charon you there?"

There was a moment of silence before a hoarse and scratchy voice came over the speakers.

"Yea, yea, I'm here. Are we doing this thing or what?"

* * *

Charon was one of the five people in the wasteland the Wanderer trusted. The ghoul had been told that by the man himself, and he knew the other four were Fawkes, Sarah Lyons, Lucas Simms, and Three Dog. He had done crazy ass jobs before, but this one was something else. He hated the weight of the power armor, it made his bones ache and it was incredibly bulky. The Wanderer had shown him how to wear and operate it specifically for the mission he had agreed to. The ghoul was to infiltrate the Brotherhood Outcast's main base in Fort Independence, make it into the base past all of the guards and download their entire communication history onto a holodisk.

All because of a hunch the Wanderer had, and based on the evidence it made sense to Charon. During his purge of the raider encampments, the Wanderer had found the raiders using advanced weaponry, so advanced the stupid bastards killed themselves with it more often than not. When he had brought this to the attention of Elder Lyons, the old man had dismissed it as raiders using scavenged Enclave tech. Usually the Outcasts hoarded all the tech for themselves, sometimes even attacking scavengers just for scrap metal, they would never let raiders get their hands on laser rifles or plasma grenades. The Wanderer almost let it go, until three weeks ago when he found a note one of the raiders. The note had mentioned meeting with the 'metal dudes' for a resupply of energy cells, and with that the Wanderer was back into investigating. The Wanderer deduced that it was either the Outcasts were changing their ways, or they had a third party giving raiders the weapons. Since the Wanderer killed everyone on the raider's side, it was up to Charon to get the information.

"You do know the moment I say a word I'm compromised right?" The ghoul stated.

The slightly irritated Wanderer's voice came back over the radio.

"I know, which is why I have Fawkes to provide back up with the M.I.R.V. and before you ask me to handle it myself, I can't. Someone's been watching me for the past week, and I suspect its whoever this weapon dealer is. If it's the Outcasts, the moment they spot me they'd would wipe the system clean."

Charon shook his head, he looked out of the shattered window and could see the Outcast base just before him; having set up a makeshift camp in the now raider free Fairfax Ruins. With luck the outcast armor and tags would let him slip in and out before anyone even knew what happened. The M.I.R.V. was an experimental miniature nuke launcher from before the war, the regular ones they had in the wastes, the Fatman, fired only one of the miniaturized nuclear warhead. The M.I.R.V. fired several of the projectiles, with each warhead capable of decimating an armored building. The idea of these things raining around him, as he dodged laser and plasma fire on top of it, was not something he tried to think about. He sighed over the radio before acknowledging the plan.

"Alright, so big green blows the fuck out of the place, while I high tail it and hope the radiation doesn't turn me feral, right?"

He heard the Wanderer make some inaudible noise before replying. "Don't worry, these guys are push overs. You guys got this, I'll see you in a weeks' time." And with that the signal cut off.

"God damned smooth skins." The ghoul mumbled. He got up from the table and made his way downstairs to where his Super Mutant companion, Fawkes, was snoring loudly, slumped up against a wall; the M.I.R.V laying in his pulled the black and crimson helmet off and tossed it at the sleeping giant, which did not even cause him to stir. "For fucks sake…." Charon swore again as he collapsed on the mattress he had placed for himself; not caring that he still had the armor on. _Great, day before a huge job and the jolly green fuckwad won't shut up._ He glared up at the ceiling praying to some high power that the obnoxious noise would end.

* * *

The Wanderer set the radio back in the locker and put his recon armor away. He knew his two companions could had the assignment. After he finished changing, he checked on Sarah. She was still out, as she looked at peace. He had been split for months about revealing anything about his past, the only people who even knew his name out here were Three Dog and Simms. He took a moment to wipe away the dried blood that he had gotten from his spar with Sarah, before sitting on the bed beside hers. Part of the reason he was so hesitant to share anything was he didn't want anyone getting close to him, particularly because of the life style he lived. He was the 'Lone Wanderer 'for a reason after all. He spent a long time just sitting there contemplating before arriving at a conclusion. _Alright, I'll tell her tomorrow, it'll make up for almost killing her._ He smiled faintly. This was the most time he had spent with anyone in quite some time. Feeling weary from fatigue, he finally laid back on the bed and for the first time in nearly three days he fell asleep.

* * *

Overseer Amata Almodovar typed furiously away on her terminal, filing away medical reports, day to day activity logs, time on leave forms, nearly everything related to the functionality of Vault 101. This was what most of her life had consisted of for the past six months, ever since _he_ came back. The only recently elected overseer stopped typing at the thought of her old childhood friend. Slowly she reached underneath her desk, and pulled out an old photograph she had kept hidden there. It was a photo of the two of them at her sixteenth birthday party, one that the boy's father had taken without telling them. In it she was smiling up at a young man with unkempt hair who stood before her looking down, both of them wearing their mandatory Vault 101 jumpsuits. The two teens looked into one another's eyes suggestively as their faces were a few inches apart, their hands locked around one anothers shoulders. A sudden droplet of water impacted the picture, and snapped Amata back into the real world. She set the old image aside, as she swiped at her eyes furiously with a piece of tissue paper. She still recalled the hurt expression on his face that day, when he returned and brought order to the place he had at one point called home; only to then be driven out once again.

 _Its alright Amata, you know you did the right thing_. It was the best thing for the vault, even _if he couldn't see it_. She told herself, and she prayed that one day she might just believe it. Everyday she was tempted to send him another message, wanting to beg him for forgiveness. Deep down she still truly love him, but upon seeing he again recently the boy she had fallen for was long gone. His once beautiful eyes, eyes that had once put her at ease and let her know everything was okay, were replaced by an blank murderous stare. The way he had nearly torn Officer Wilkin's arm off when he had attempted to arrest her, which still gave her nightmares, and the murderous aura that seemed to radiate around him. She knew for a fact that if it wasn't for her begging and pleading over her father's life, the former overseer would of meet a very gruesome fate. No he wasn't the same boy who had fled into the wastes a year ago, and she didn't want anyone in the vault becoming like that. There was a knock on her office door, accompanied by a familiar voice.

"Hey uh, Amata mind if come in?" It was Butch Deloria, the former vault bully and the person who had tormented her throughout most of her childhood.

Amata quickly composed herself shoving the photograph back into its hidden spot as she went back to typing. She, like most of the other inhabitants of the Vault, was surprised at how much Butch had matured since they were kids. Ever since her father had stepped down as overseer, Butch had taken on the role of Security Chief for the vault, and had actually been helpful…for the most part.

"What is it Butch?"

The door to her office slide back as he entered, still wearing his security vest. Amata look up from her computer slightly annoyed. She just wanted to be left alone right now, but she knew better, the overseer had to put the vault ahead of themselves. The former Tunnel Snake leader produced a comb out of his pocket and brushed his gelled back hair repeatedly.

"People in the vault are talking Amata, when are we opening up? It's been half a year."

The black haired woman sighed and brought her hands over her face. _We aren't ready for this, none of us are._ After hesitating a moment she responded. "Butch, I don't know if we ever will…you saw what that place did to-"

"It won't be like that, we forced him out. This time we are going together." Butch cut her off, having stopped combing his absorb hair. Amata could see a small amount of rage in his eyes. He heaved and sat down in one of the chairs. Amata had never seen Butch get like this before, not in the twenty years she had put up with him.

"Amata…we made him into that. You know that right? We forced him to live that life. That guy is a survivor, even when we were little he would find some way to keep up or get by." Butch tensed up and slammed a curled up fist into his knee.

"I fucking hated him for it. Always keeping up with us, because he was better! Even in the vault, he could take the Wally, Paul and me with no problem. Now because of us, he's fucking death incarnate of whatever the hell is out there. We owe him an apology Amata, he saved us from ourselves." Butch looked up, determination in his eyes. Amata slowly lowered her head, barely fighting back tears. The day he had left, Amata had begged him to survive and return for her one day. _Maybe that's why you change. You fought so hard to see me again, you killed yourself in the process._

"I-I don't think we deserve his time Butch…he's hurting so much because of us."

Deloria got up from his seat and walked behind Amata's desk before placing his hand on the grieving overseer's shoulder. Amata was stunned, Butch had never been this…caring. It was unsettling. Amata swiped at the tears streaking her face, her eyes beginning to sting now.

"Hey, its alright. We broke his ankle one time with a lead pipe back during school, and he didn't shoot me when you gave him that gun. So there's hope yet."

Amata set her head down her desk before what Butch said registered with her. Her eyes widened upon recalling a memory of her former lover having to wear a cast on his leg for months, but his father had said that was because he tripped...

"That was you?!"

* * *

Allen Whitney had been serving the Enclave military for nearly fifteen years. He had seen plenty of shit in his time, but this was just…weird. He slowly reactivated his helmet's binoculars just take make sure he wasn't hallucinating; he soon found that what he was seeing was no illusion. Miles below the overlook his squad had taken position on a small settlement sat. Its structures made from wood or rusted metal panels, some of the houses had wide fields that looked to be producing crops of some kind. Dozens of wasters were hard at work sculpting a statue depicting their target, Colonel Augustus Autumn. He tallied about thirty seven inhabitants, nineteen males, sixteen females and two children; a boy and girl. As far as he could tell, only a handful of them were armed with either a pistol or rifle; nothing that could hurt his squad. This sight puzzled Whitney. _This makes no damn sense, why the hell would wasters be building statues of an Enclave leader?_ Knowing Autumn's history with the people of the wastes, this went against everything he knew about the Colonel.

The baffled major turned back to his heavily armored squad. Were it not for the small silver rank insignias that were wielded onto their suit's chest plate, they wouldn't be able to tell one another apart. Davis looked up at him as his voice came over the com.

"I told you I wasn't popping Mentats, they really are building a statue of the guy."

The major turned away from his squad and begin looking for any strategic points they could use to their advantage.

"Well Davis, I stand corrected. Staples, go with Davis and find a place to set up, I want an update on your status every ten minutes."

Staples snapped the safety off her plasma rifle as she replied back. "Understood sir." She motioned to the sniper, as the two grabbed a tripod and a few plasma grenades before setting off down the slope. Sergeant Howard shift uneasily from the weight of the plasma caster he held, and the gatling laser he had strapped to his back.

"Howard get the mines out, and give me a count of how many we have. I need to pin point a location for the target."

The sergeant gave response back over the comm. "Major, where is Sigma squad? The briefing said they were here."

The major took a moment to check the time before looking back at his newest recruit. "Sergeant those people down there are Sigma squad for all we know, they could have a stash of plasma weapons concealed in one of those huts for all we know. So we are going to storm that village kill every last one of those bastards and leave here dragging Autumns sorry ass back to Congress."

Howard was dead silent, he then quietly went about searching through the equipment box they landed with. Whitney looked away, Howard knew what he was saying. Sigma squad was wiped out at Adams, everyone on the _Neptune_ knew, but why did Congress lie to them; an obvious one at that. These people were just wasters; poorly armed wasters on top of it. The way they walked, the way the dressed, the way they looked content and happy with their lives; these were just civilians not Enclave troops. Now, all because of Autumn, Omega was going to have to kill every single one of them. Whitney activated the Med X injector for his suit, breathing deeply as he felt the drug numb his mind. He needed to stop thinking so much.

 _Get in, eliminate threats, extract target, evac out._ He repeated it to himself over and over again.

 _Get in, eliminate threats, extract target, evac out. Get in, eliminate threats, extract target, evac out…._


	6. Conceal, Don't Feel

**Authors Notes: Just thought I'd take a moment to explain some of the tech in this work. I love Fallout 3, but one thing that bothered me was the lack of tech the Enclave brought with them from the west. I'm also a huge fan of their Mark I armor from Fallout 2. Also i will mention events or names of people outside Fallout 3 so keep an eye on that.  
**

* * *

Sarah stirred in her bed. Her head was throbbing. She thought she heard someone speaking in the distance, someone familiar. Slowly she hearing focused, as she slowly opened her eyes. She sat up and saw the Wanderer sitting at the table on the far side of the room, his recon armor on. She assumed his pipboy was tuned to Galaxy News Radio as she could hear Three Dog's voice.

"…..In later news, a meeting between settlement leaders went south yesterday as one of the representatives pulled a gun out in the middle of the meeting. The situation was resolved peacefully, but not causing some serious damage to the negotiations. Where are you 101? Seems like we have another miracle for you to perform. Until next time children, this is Three Dog and you're listening to Galaxy News Radio, bringing you the truth, no matter how bad it hurts."

With that the disk jockey of the wastes signed off, as the song 'Anything Goes' began to play over the radio. Sarah pulled the sheets off her and went to get out of bed, the floorboards quacked under her heels. To her surprise she was still wearing her under garments from last night.

"Morning."

She looked up at the Wanderer confused.

"What happened last night?"

She saw a look of worry cross his face before it faded.

"Your not as tough as you think."

Sarah sighed and started getting dressed in her recon armor as well, before realizing she was already wearing it. _So much for kicking his ass._ There was still a dull pain at the back of her head, she winced as she rubbed it. She should have known better, the Wanderer was far above her in combat. Sarah frowned at that. She'd never be able to match him, hell even Gallows had an edge on her in combat at times. She felt the sense of uselessness rising again. Lyons shook it off, all she did was confirm her thoughts. The Wanderer fought like an asshole.

"What time is it?" She asked.

"6:00 A.M. we need to get moving soon, throw your suit on and eat something. You feel like running?"

The sentinel rolled her shoulders and stretched. "Funny, it sounded like you just gave me orders kid."

The Wanderer looked at her with suspicion, sitting up straighter in his chair.

"Your in good spirits for someone that got punched out last night."

Sarah offered the Wanderer a gift, in the form of a middle finger. He reciprocated it with a chuckle.

"I just need to get back in shape. I haven't been in the field in nearly two months remember? There's only so much exercise can make up for."

That was partly true, but honestly Sarah just wanted to remind herself of what she was capable of. Besides, she didn't have to babysit anyone now, the Wanderer could handle himself just fine, giving Sarah minimal distractions.

"I'm guessing the talks at the Citadel aren't going very well. I'm not surprised, those people have never had to be part of anything outside their communities."

She heard the Wanderer sigh.

"I thought your father and Simms could keep them in line. Looks like I'll need to make an appearance."

Sarah finished getting her power armor on and walked up behind the still seated Wanderer, who still was clad in his recon armor.

"Is that what your going with?" She asked.

The young man looked up at her. Lyons could see him contemplating something as he looked at her.

"Sentinel, I want to ask you something, something very personal, can you promise me you'll tell no one?"

Sarah was curious now. _Personal huh? Where is this coming from?_

"Yea go ahead kid, shoot."

She watched as he looked away from her and stared at the wall in front of him.

"Do you think I'm having a positive effect on the wasteland?"

Lyons looked at him puzzled. _Is he seriously asking me this?_

"Well of course. I mean without you, these peace talks might never have happened. You helped get the purifier set up, which we could have done as well if given proper time. Not to mention, you lead the assault on Adams Airforce Base when I was still recovering from my coma. You have a pretty nice rap sheet for someone that's only been kicking it for a year."

As much as it hurt Sarah's pride to say that, it was the truth. She actually wondered how the bastard pulled off the things he did.

The Wanderer nodded slowly.

"I feel like I'm just making it better temporarily. What if I die? Will the whole place just collapse in on itself? You heard Three Dog, they need me again. I've been gone for a day and they already need me. I don't think people are learning their lesson."

Sarah was curious now, she leaned against the wall as she listened to him speak.

"What lesson are you trying to teach people?"

The Wanderer looked at her again, a troubled expression in his eyes.

"That people can learn to survive on their own, they just need a hand. But me, Christ, I feel like I'm doing everything for everyone. They expect me to help them with their problems? Like hell, I'm still juggling my own."

The Brotherhood sentinel tilted her head at that. What problems couldn't the Wanderer solve?

"Whats going on with you?"

The Wanderer immediately shut down at that, Lyons assumed he hadn't meant to say that last part out loud.

"Nothing, give me a sec and I'll be ready."

"You sure you don't want t-?"

"I'm fine, we need to get moving anyways. The mutants will probably try to relocate by tomorrow, if we hurry we might catch them by sunset tomorrow."

With that the Wanderer had moved over to his work bench and donned the T-45 armor within minutes. Grabbing his Gauss rifle and loaded the gun, before clamping his helmet on.

"Alright, lets get moving."

Sarah snatched up her laser rifle and inserted a micro fusion cell in it's ammo slot as she waited by the door.

"How's your nose? Didn't break it last night, did I?."

The Wanderer walked by her and opened the door, stepping out into the world outside.

"It's nothing I can't handle. Come on, if we hurry we may even catch them by sunset."

Lyons frowned slightly as she followed behind him.  
 _What the hell is going on with him?_

* * *

Charon managed to slip just inside Fort Independence, just barely getting by the two power armored maniacs out front. Feeling relived that he wasn't dead this far into the plan, he proceeded to wanderer about the building, taking extra care not to start a conversation with the dozen of other armored individuals that were scattered about. After a few minutes of scoping the place out, he found what he was looking for, a single utility door that lead down further into the compound down three flights of stairs.

He checked to make sure no one was around as he slipped through the door and proceeded down. As he made his way, he could see lockers and tables that has massive amounts of scrap, rusted energy weapons, various papers written with bizarre formulas written all over them. Other than the absurd amount of junk this room contained, it seemed that no one was down here at the moment. _This is going way too well…_. The ghoul thought. As he came to the bottom of the stairs, he spotted a terminal in the back of the room. He walked over towards it and inspected it, making sure it wasn't trapped or rigged with some bullshit that those smoothskins always tried to pull.

Charon powered it up and swore when he saw a password input screen. _You've got to be fucking kidding me…._ He looked around the floor he was on, seeing nothing except for a rather exotic looking missile launcher and a few notes about power armor repair. Knowing he was running out of time he stood before the terminal, deep in thought, trying to recall what the Wanderer had told them about this organization. After a moment Charon began to type. _Independent_. To his amazement it actually worked. He found a collection notes someone had made on the terminal, with a moment of hesitation he slide the holodisk into its port and began downloading the entire log collection.

"What are you doing down here brother?"

Charon spun around to find a powered armored man standing before him, his face tanned and aged for sun exposure. The man's eyes wandered from Charon to the terminal behind him, he glanced up at the armored ghoul; a silent fury building in his eyes. Charon had to think of something quick. Trying his best to sound as human as possible.

"Just, uh…..checking the files. Someone said we were missing some stuff."

The man's eyes narrowed, he obviously wasn't buying it. Charon saw him reach for the plasma pistol he had holstered on his side.

"That doesn't explain why are you on my personal terminal. Identify yourself now."

 _Aw fuck._

If he made it out of this, he was going to make damn sure he was compensated.

* * *

Shawn Davis wasn't the usual Enclave soldier. Unlike previous generations, the enthusiasm for their 'Restoration of the American Way' had died off over the years.

He never understood that part, they barely had one hundred men on the ship, and in fact most of its systems were operated and controlled by the ships' ZAX A.I., prewar super computer. As much as the lieutenant hated to admit it, the Enclave was dying, and he had no clue where he would go when that happened. This mission was now on day two, and having nothing to do in the middle of nowhere gave the Enclave lieutenant plenty of time to think.

"Davis, snap out of it."

The Enclave officer was snapped out of his daze as he glanced over at Staples. She had taken her helmet off again, letting her black hair run down to the base of her neck. Major Whitney always got onto her for that and Davis could see why. An enemy sniper could just kill her with a well placed shot, but after the years of knowing the lieutenant he assumed that's what she wanted. Not that he could blame her, they really had no purpose other than to carry out Congress' missions they wanted done.

"What is it now Aran? And Whitney told you about taking your helmet off in the field."

They had taken up position along a slope overlooking the north side of the town. Autumn had been seen walking around one of the smaller houses there. Now, they were waiting for the major to tell them exactly which one he was currently in.

The dark haired woman shrugged, as she tied her black hair back in a ponytail.

"Seriously Shawn, no one even knows we're here. This is a typical bullshit mission like always. They want us to massacre a bunch of people just barley scrapping by and for what? Some jack ass colonel who managed to squirm out of commiting suicide."

Davis sighed, she had a point. This wasn't the first time they had done something like this, but typically the targets were wanted dead. Missions were really the only place they could to speak their minds. On board the ship, nearly every single room had listening software somewhere in it.

"Alright, what did you want to say?"

Aran looked around cautiously before making a tapping motion on her helmet and pointing towards him. Davis squinted confused for a moment before removing his helmet.

"I'm starting to think they are monitoring our comm channels from HQ."

Shawn tilted his head. That statement in and of itself was something considered borderline treason.

"Are you sure? I mean, yea, _Neptune_ is state of the art, but listening into radio channels between our suits? Aran-"

"I know what the major said about it being an isolated network inside the ship, but the past few months, I had this feeling that someone was listening to us so….I went and…kinda checked into the ships network….."

Davis was silent, what Staples had done was not only illegal, but extremely dangerous given the nature of how important the _Neptune's_ networking was. Now she was definitely committing treason. Wonderful.

"You did what?"

"I know, I know, but I swear no one saw me do it. I found out our network frequency wasn't listed as a private system, its only listed as private for the _Neptune's_ A.I."

"So your saying that its almost a completely private system?"

Aran nodded.

"Well," He continued. "If its just the ships A.I. I don't see why its such a big deal."

"But here's the weird part. I found that aside from the A.I. there's only one possible location our communications can broadcasted to. The Bridge, but based on what I pulled up about the _Neptune_ that wasn't part of the original design."

Suddenly the two where interrupted by the voice of Major Whitney.

"Davis, Aran are you there? I'm guessing Staples took her helmet off again."

Shawn looked back at his fellow lieutenant.

"We'll talk about this later."

Aran nodded as the two put their helmets back on.

"Yes sir, Davis here, any sign of Autumn?"

There was a brief silence before Aran joined in.

"Sorry sir, had something rattling around in here, just had to get it out."

Davis rolled his eyes, Staples had always been a horrible liar. Whitley apparently ignored the comment as he went to start the mission briefing.

"Alright, Autumn is cooped up in the center of the town, inside the building with tin roof. Far as I can tell, he has no one watching him. Either he wasn't expected to be found, or just doesn't give a damn. When I give the signal you get ready to cap any unlucky bastard that gets in me and Howards way, but...we don't know exactly where Sigma is. We'll be set to go in five."

Davis and Staples acknowledged the new orders and got set in position. Snapping the bipod onto his modified Gauss rifle, which the techs on the _Neptune_ had been nice enough to convert the weapon into a sniper rifle, he laid prone and set up his scope. Aran activated her helmets' binoculars and scanned the village for any possible enemy sentry's.

"Shawn, you ready?"

He knew exactly what she meant, she wasn't talking about the mission. She knew just how much he hated this next part.

"I'll manage Aran…Thanks."

* * *

Sarah was amazed at the amount of ground they had covered within a day. Checking her rifle once again, she quietly walked up to the Wanderer who had stopped to compare their location to that of the mutants at the exit of a small valley. The sun was beginning to set,

"So, how much longer until we catch them?" She asked.

"They'll be here any minute now, so get ready. This is the only exit from their camp. Far as I can tell they haven't passed through here because of the lack of gore or live rounds laying around. There was only five of them a few days ago but there could be more."

The Brotherhood sentinel nodded and took a look at their surroundings. Super Mutants were pretty easy to track, the ugly bastards dropped rounds of left a trail of blood from dragging the food along with them. She spotted a hill they could use for an elevated position, and it gave them a clear shot of the opening, the perfect vantage point. She motioned to the Wanderer and the two Brotherhood warriors set themselves up.

It took about ten minutes before the mutants showed up. They were being lead by a larger mutant up front who was….blue? _Since when do they come in blue?_ Lyons thought. There were six in total, two of them were holding assault rifles, one brute had a missile launcher, another one in the back wielded a minigun, an overlord brought up the center wielding a super sledge, and the big blue one up front was holding what appeared to the bumper of a car that had been sharpened into a sword. All of them wearing scrap metal that had been bent around their large forms, the blue one was wearing rubber tires as shoulder guards, and had a stop sign showing on the front of his armor.  
The pack of freaks was about fifty feet from their position and were slowly lumbering towards them. Sarah had her finger on the trigger, slowly lining up the shot when the Wanderer tapped her on the shoulder. She looked over at him, wondering why he had stopped her.

"Wait a second. Look at the blue one, he's got something on his wrist."

Sarah looked back but instead of seeing six mutants, she now saw only five. The rest of the muties looked alert as they stopped in their tracks looking in all directions.

"Wait, where did it go? Wanderer you see anything?"

She squinted her eyes and tried to find the missing mutie.

"No, he just vanished…. Fuck he had a stealth boy on….but that means-."

"Why you haunt me tin man? You kill master! Now me kill you!"

A loud and monstrous voice interrupted them as the blue skinned mutant appeared in front of them, slamming his weapon down at the prone Wanderer; who barely managed to avoid being struck. Sarah pushed herself up and lined up the front of her rifle to the temple of the enrage mutant. It merely laughed as it swung its sword up and hit Lyons in the side, causing her shot to go wide as she pulled the trigger. Fortunately, the armor keep the blade from cutting into her.

"Stupid humans! Me kill you! Make master happy!"

The enraged creature threw it hand out and tried to grab her, before its head exploded as a bullet went in and out of its temple. The wasted mutant nearly toppled over on her as Lyons side stepped out of its path. She looked back up at the Wanderer, his rifle still emitting wisps of smoke trailing from the muzzle, she nodded her thanks, before the rest of the mutant pack began to fire on them.

Lyons swore and dived behind a bolder as a rocket sailed over her head. She could hear the mutants laugh and screaming nonsense at them. Looking back at the Wanderer, bullets pinged off their T-45 armor. Sarah tagged one of the brutes holding a rifle and smiled as the seven foot tall monster toppled over, its face scorched beyond recognition. A shot from the Wanderer's rifle went straight through the minigun wielding mutie, causing it to collapse with a smoldering hole through its chest. Sarah targeted the overlord's legs as it neared and fired burst into its kneecaps. The lasers burned right through the mutants flesh as it toppled over screaming in agony. Suddenly a rocket slammed into helmet of the Wanderer, engulfing him in a ball of fire. Sarah's eye widen in horror, when a searing pain her in left shoulder caused her to drop her rifle. She pressed against her cover trying ignore the pain as bullets tore off and shot rock into her face.

* * *

Whitney was hoping with every fiber in his being that these weren't wasters, praying that they were some kind of mercenary's or raiders just in disguise. He knew the moment he pointed his plasma rifle at one of the townies that he was lying to himself. All around the now smoldering village people scrambled away, as an onslaught of plasma and laser fire rained down on them. He wished with every ounce of his being that this would just stop, that every single one of these people would just vanish off the Earth. He pulled the trigger as one man leaped at him, trying in vain to hit him with a pool stick. The plasma shot when straight through him, cooking him inside out as his smoldering corpse hit the ground.

The major injected himself with another dose of Med-X. The initial assault on the village was proceeding without any snags. They were now closing in on August's home. As he rounded one of the buildings, one man took a pot shot at him with a 10mm, only for the gun to jam on him. In a frenzy the man rushed at him, deciding instead to try and club Whitney to death with his broken weapon. He took a total of two steps before his temple exploded. Shutting his eyes the major continued past, he'd have to find some way to make up to Davis for that. Stepping over the newly made corpse, he came to a stop at the front door of the colonel. With a powerful kick he snapped the decaying wood like a swig and push his armored body through the frame. It was a small house, a staircase lead up to his left, and to his right sat Colonel Autumn, sitting at a polished wooden desk. The ex-Enclave officer looked in his direction, jis face illuminated by a small lantern on his desk. He was still wearing his Enclave uniform, it had been worn and dirty, his trench coat had numerous holes in it. He looked twice his age, dark circles around his eyes. He gave the major a look of despair.

"I'm a little surprised you found me so soon, but I knew this was an eventuality."

He said in his southern tone. Whitley pointed his plasma rifle at his, not sure the intentions of his target.

"If you've come to fight boy, I'm afraid you'll find no such thing here."

He stood up and walked over to the Enclave major, his eyes strangely focused on the staircase.

"I'll come willingly as long as you leave my people alone."

The stunned the major for a moment.

"Your people?"

Autumn sighed.

"I'll explain myself when the time comes. Come on now son, my trial awaits."

Whitney moved to seize the man up. "Where is Sigma Squad?"

Autumn said nothing at first. Merely looking away from the power armored, his stance seemingly sagged forward.

"They left me. Said I was a traitors, wanted to go back to Adam's Airforce Base. Don't know why they didn't just kill me. Sometimes, I wish they had. I guess they didn't make if you asked about them."

The colonel stood there not moving, merely keeping his eyes directed forward.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Let's get this over with."

Whitney nodded and knocked him out with a single punch. He immediately keyed the MK III's radio.

"This is Whitney, target is secured. All units hold fire and regroup at the LZ. "

He slung the limp colonel over his shoulder and left the house behind.

* * *

Sarah reached for her laser pistol just as the armored form of the Wanderer rushed by her, his helmet completely gone and his face badly burned. He snatched the blue mutant's weapon and charged the remaining two mutants. Sarah yanked her laser pistol from its holster and began to unload on the green monstrosities below her, hoping to draw some of the fire off the Wanderer. One her shots stuck the mutant with the launcher in the shoulder, causing his to drop it just as he pulled the trigger. The resulting explosion blew him to pieces. The final mutant unloaded his entire clip into the charging Wanderer, who seemed unfazed by the attempted attack. He brought the bumper sword down onto the green beast and cut deeply into tits shoulder before it stopped the attack with its rifle. The Wanderer dropped the sword and drove his armored fist into the mutant, managing to actually punch through its junk armor and into it's chest cavity. It fell over in a heap, yellowish blood gushing out of its fatal wounds. Sarah sat up and noticed the mutant overlord was still crawling towards her. It screamed nonsense at her before she unload the rest of her energy cell into its head.

The pain in her shoulder hit her again as she holstered her pistol and gripped her newest injury in pain. One of the 5.56 mm bullets had hit one of the weak spots in her suit. The Wanderer had noticed this and made his way to the injured sentinel. As he drew nearer Sarah saw just how badly he was hurt. While his armor had taken some slight damage, mostly just blast marks his face had fair much worse.

Part of the skin along his jaw line had been burnt away, small pieces of flesh were still visible under the burnt tissue. It was one of the most horrific injuries Sarah had seen in years. _How in the hell is he even conscious?_ The Wanderer knelled down and took out a disgusting looking bottle of water. He slowly unscrewed the lid and proceeded to dump it over his head, making sure to get it into his burns. He winced a little, but seemed completely unfazed by what he had just done. Lyons' eyes widened in horror.

"What in the fuck are you doing? Your going to get an infection!"

He only shook his head and began to examine her.

"Don't worry about me, I've got it covered. Now hold still, I'm going to take this off."

Sarah was going to argue, but decided against it, partly because she started feeling a little lightheaded. After a moment the Wanderer took off the left arm section of her suit and swore.

"Shit….."

Lyons look at him concerned.

"What? What is it?"

"Sarah just stay calm. I think the round hit an artery. You're losing a lot of blood. Take off the recon suit for now, I need to slow the bleeding. We need to get you back to the Citadel."

Grabbing some clothes and a bottle of scotch from his suit's chest compartment, the Wanderer made a makeshift tourniquet. Sarah winced as the alcohol burned like hell. After a moment of patching her up, her companion began to gather up their weapons. Sarah slipped her recon armor back on, and most of her suit. The wet feeling of her own blood made her shiver as it slowly flowed Slinging both rifles over his right shoulder he help her to her feet, throwing her right shoulder over his own he supported her they walked. As they moved on Lyons realized something.

"That's the first time you've ever called me by my name."

The Wanderer smiled weakly, his face still horribly disfigured.

"My dad was a doctor, he said when you talk to patents, always call them by their first name, it helps them relax. Also, just keep talking to me, I need you to stay awake."

Lyons nodded, she could feel her strength fading just a tad with every step. She must have lost more blood than she thought.

"Hey, just…tell me something about you. I need something to focus on…"

The Wanderer sighed.

"Well, what do you want to know?

"Anything, just tell me anything." She said.

Her mind actively fighting to stay conscious. At first she thought he wouldn't tell her, but after a moment of hesitation, he finally gave in.

"It all started when my dad left….."  


* * *

 **Authors Notes: Wow, over 4,000 words. Don't forget to leave me a review and tell me what you think. Any input you have helps. Chapter 7 is already in the works. Thanks for reading, I'll see you guys again soon.**  



	7. On Death's Door

The ride back to the _Neptune_ was uneventful for the first two hours, until Colonel Autumn had woken up. Seeing as how they still had another hour to go, Whitley thought he'd get some answers from the form military head of the Enclave. Staples had removed her helmet and was attempting to comfort her comrade. Howard had said nothing since their incident on the ground, the weapon specialist merely kept his gaze looking out of the vertibird small porthole. Augustus had been placed in the seat beside the major, his arms cuffed behind his back and a shock collar had be clamped around his neck.

"So Autumn, what were you doing in that village? You had a lot of us thinking you were dead."

The former Enclave officer looked up at him, his eyes showing a quiet rage stirring within.

"I was doing my part of course. Restoring the American way of democracy."

The major gave him a puzzled look.

"But you hated wasters, if I recall you wanted to use the purifier to kill off most of the folks in the wasteland. Why the sudden change?"

"You don't get it, do you son? Our way isn't working, this isn't how the America of the old should settle these disputes, going around shooting people left and right and taking their property is no way to revive America. I didn't' get it at first, not until a young man showed me just how futile our way was. I wandered the wastes for a few months, desperate for a purpose once again; I barely made it by. There were so many times along the way that I thought about just putting an end to my life then and there…."

Whitley saw the colonels eyes harden.

"But then I realized something, from the old stories I was told as a child. Our country started out with just small towns that eventually linked together and became the thirteen colonies. I found that village and decided that I would show them the way to survive and defend themselves. Get them on the track to revitalize America. I was their leader, that statue they built? They decided to build that on their own time, I had been there for only four months, and they looked upon me as if I was their leader…. I felt a purpose again…"

With that the older man stopped.

"Now son, I reckon you owe me at least one answer. Who do you take orders from now? Last I knew I was the only one left after Eden died."

The Omega team leader cocked his head at that.

"President Eden is still alive. Congress sent us to come and get you."

The major saw a look of disbelief on Autumns face.

"That's…that's not possible…. Congress died on the oil rig, and Eden…Eden was on Raven Rock."

Whitley wasn't sure what the older officer was talking about, but after sharing that information, Autumn didn't say another word for the rest of the trip. He only stared at the ground in silent contemplation.

* * *

"Sarah? Hey, Lyons come on, you need to stay awake."

Sarah Lyons had been on the verge of dying a few times in her life. Once when traveling with her father, a raider had taken a pot shot at her and nearly hit her liver. Another time when she was still an initiate she would of had her head caved in by mutant with a super sledge if she had not been wearing her helmet. The most recent had been when a radiation surge from the purifier sent her into a mild coma. This time however, it was different, she wasn't sure how much longer she would last.

They had been traveling overnight, the last five hours she had spent thrown up over the Wanderer's shoulder. He had injected a stimpack, which had slowed the bleeding down significantly for the time being, but she had already lost too much blood. She gripped the Wanderer's hand tightly, she felt cold all over, her mind foggy. Wind howled in her ears as she could feel the cold night's air washing over her, the Wanderer was booking it for all his worth. She still felt the pain in her shoulder every step the Wanderer took, but that was nothing compared to the inner horror she was feeling.

For the first in quite some time, she felt uncertain. Yes, she had been in these situations before, but nothing like this. They were not going to make it to the Citadel in time, the Wanderer had no way of replacing her lost blood, and she knew that she couldn't hang on forever. These were just a few things she had never known in life. She had spent nearly her entire life serving the Brotherhood, doing whatever she could to live up to her father's legacy and the examples of the Maxson family, never thinking about her needs. The most horrifying thought came next, however, what would happen to her once all the disputes were settled? She had only known fighting and surviving her whole life, she had no social skills, no talents or gifts that some of the other wastelanders had learned. She was also completely alone, sure Lyons Pride had been like her family, but they never got to understand just who they were. Sarah tried to think about who she was, what she believed in; only to end up repeating Brotherhood doctrine back to herself. Had she been this way her whole life? Were these her desires, or just something she had come to accept from the life of a soldier. Right now, trying to tell shades of grey and black apart, she could hear the Wanderer trying to keep her attention.

"Lyons hold on, your going to make it alright? Just keep holdi…."

Sarah wasn't sure what he was saying, her hearing was starting to fade. She could see the moon in the sky behind them. That was about the only thing she could make out, all the greys and blacks were starting to merge together. _Well...this is a shitty way to go._ Her eyelids slowly shut as she gazed into the fading moonlight.

* * *

Head Scribe Rothchild was hard at work in the lab of the Citadel, before him was the prototype MP-47/A Medical Power Armor, a piece of equipment the Wanderer had brought him after his mission to Old Olney. It was late into the night, very few scribes and knights remained on this level. Rothchild had been spending his free time trying to restore the suits secondary functions. Originally it would inject stimpack when it sensed its wearers vitals dropped too low or it would administer Rad-X if the suits Geiger counter went off. So far the only thing he had managed to get working was the voice modulator, which refused to stop swearing at him.

"Attention, you commie piece of shit. You are illegally modifying equipment issued by the U.S. Armed forces. An administrator has been contacted. This suit will now self-destruct in thirty seconds. Kiss your ass goodbye, you red son of a bitch!"

The head scribe swore and disconnected the suit's main power source. He took a breath of relief when the damned thing stopped talking. He had spent hours on it and only succeeded on nearly blowing himself up on multiple occasions. He was just about to call it a night when he heard the door up above being kicked in followed by someone shouting.

"Rothchild! Sentinel Lyons is hurt, they need you in the sick bay now!"

Without a second to spare the elderly man was dashing up the stairs, a knight in power armor stood holding the door open on the first floor. _I'm getting to old for this sort of thing._ He thought.

When he had arrived in the medical room, the situation was worse than he thought. The scribes attending to the ailing sentinel had just removed her armor and recon suit, her entire left side was caked in blood. The Wanderer stood back in the corner, his forehead covered in sweat, with mild burn marks on his face. He had stripped off his armor and set it besides Sarah's. Fortunately, the Wanderer had helped sort out the issues they had with the Citadel's medical robot Sawbones, who was administering antibiotics and Med-X to Sarah by an IV. Still she was in bad shape. Her vitals were dangerously low. Rothchild turned to an exhausted Wanderer.

"What the hell happened?"

The young man looked over at Sarah for a moment before looking back at the scribe.

"We were tracking some mutants down. One of them got a lucky shot in and punctured her superior thoracic artery. I ran here as fast as I could. I tried to stop the blood loss, but she had lost so much already."

Rothchild was at a loss. Elder Lyons would not be able to deal with this right now, Reginald needed to fix this situation before it got worse.

"She needs a blood transfusion…but we don't have any one with her blood type. She's O Negative…."

That's when it felt hopeless. They had no one in the brotherhood with her blood type. Last time she needed one they had gotten lucky and found a blood pack that had just enough for her

The Wanderer looked as though he was in deep thought before speaking.

"She can have mine, I'm O Negative too. Take as much as you need."

Rothchild lead the Wanderer away, turning back to the scribes working to stabilize the unconscious Lyons.

"You all know what to do."

* * *

The Wanderer sat down on a stretcher as Rothchild hooked an IV into his arm.

"You know if she doesn't make it."

Rothchild muttered as he began to start the process.

"She'll make it. I won't let that happen. How is Elder Lyons holding up?"

The Wanderer saw the elderly scribe frown.

"Not well, at this rate, I don't know if he'll survive the end of the month. We've been working on a cure but…"

"Your not sure if you can isolate the DNA strands without risking an FEV transformation right?"

He nodded.

"Yes, sadly we don't have anything that can produce a reliable serum."

"I'm sorry Rothchild. I wish there was something else I could do…"

The balding scribe looked over at him.

"Elder Lyons wished to assign you a mission, one he has trusted only you with."

The Wanderer raised his eyebrows.

"Let me guess, he wants me to deal with the talks between the settlements in the wasteland?"

"Yes, but he has another task. He refused to tell me, said it was for your ears only."

Rothchild stopped and looked to the bag of blood hanging above the Wanderers' head. It was starting to fill now. They still had a chance to save her.

"I'll return in a moment, I need to check on Sentinel Lyons' status."

The Wanderer only nodded, as with that Rothchild left him alone. His eyes wandered to the small plasma bag that was slowly filling up with his blood _._ He ran his hand over the injury he sustained from the missile, and his wounds had now been nearly healed, by midday he wouldn't have scratch on him. His face dropped as he thought about his current situation.

 _Its been nearly a year, and I still feel like somethings not right…no matter how many I kill…it just isn't enough…._

His thoughts turned to the woman across the hall. He could hear Rothchild shouting orders to some of the scribes. _I'm sorry Sarah…._

* * *

 **Author Notes: Thanks again for reading please leave a review _if you'd like, Chapter 8 will be done over the weekend. Hopefully everyone is enjoying this so far.  
_**


	8. Change

**Author Notes: Here it is Chapter 8. When you are done reading this chapter please look at my page for a poll, I need your help deciding.**

* * *

"I know you're wondering why I've selected you for this mission. I should be furious with you over the state of Sentinel Lyons, but I know you had her best intentions in mind."

Elder Owyn Lyons was seated in his chair directly facing a rather drained Wanderer.

"Rothchild has told me you gave over three pints of blood. So I'll try to make this quick, I know your body must be weak after all that."

The Brotherhood knight straightened up and fought off his fatigue.

"It's no problem Elder Lyons, take your time. I just wish things could have turned out better with Sarah."

The Wanderer's face dropped a little. The gray haired elder merely waved him off.

"Last I heard she was on resting and stable still…Wanderer I have a personal favor to ask you of, you know how poor my condition really is, but….I haven't shared the details with my daughter yet…In case something happens to me, I want you to help Sarah. I know you have respect her, and despite what you might think, you two aren't that far apart."

The elderly man had a look of despair in his eyes as he continued to speak, but his words were true. Deep down the Wanderer did care for Sarah, in fact when she was left comatose after the purifier incident, he had felt guilty that he may have caused her condition. He stayed in her room for nearly two days; having to be pushed by Elder Lyons himself to focus on the Enclave.

"Her mother you see…she died before Sarah even knew her. Much like you, and sadly I was too busy with my duties with the Brotherhood to watch over her for much of her life…She spent much of her childhood training to be my successor…I'm worried that she's never had her own ambitions, that they were merely that of the Brotherhood and she took those as her own."

The Wanderer nodded in sympathy for the old man, he understood what the elder was worried about. He had spent much of his time in the wasteland trying to find a purpose. At first he tried to make a home for himself, helping others along the way. This was his trend for months until he received a distress signal from his former home, Vault 101. Then he thought he'd just return home, maybe try and rekindle what he and Amata once had, leave his wandering days behind now that the Enclave had been dealt with. Sadly, when he returned it seemed that his former home wanted nothing to do with him. Once he helped save the vault, they exiled him, Amata herself told him he had to leave. Ever since then, he had been channeling his rage by wiping out every possible threat to place he had been born in. No matter how many he killed though, the pain always seemed to remain. Now the very settlements he had helped seemed almost completely reliant on him to solve their problems, was this what his father had envisioned?

The Brotherhood leader continued.

"I have made arrangements for Sarah to replace me when my time comes to an end, which was part of the reason I've had her handling administrative work. I'm not sure if that's what she wants in her heart, even if she doesn't know it. I want my daughter to know what it means to live, not grow up and be a recluse like the Brotherhood out west or someone who only knows fighting. Despite what she might say, I know she respects you as well. You'll be the only one she listens to when I'm not here. When I go…can you make sure she doesn't lose her way?"

The Wanderer looked into Owyn's eyes, he could see just how serious the elder was over this assignment. For the longest time he never wanted to be attached to anyone, never wanted to get too close to people, because of how quickly they tend to die out in the wastes. But Sarah was different, he could see that, she was strong, determined, and a crazy bitch if set off; it also helped that she wasn't bad on the eyes either. The Wanderer pushed that final thought away. He looked back at Elder Lyons.

"I'll do my best elder."

At that, he saw the old man's face relax.

"That is good to know. Now for your mission. Do you remember your report on Point Lookout?"

At those words the Wanderer felt a chill crawl up his spine. He had explored that god-forsaken land months ago, and had lost part of his brain in the process.

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

"I need you to go and retrieve something. Inside the Calvert Mansion, we have reason to believe that the final part to repairing Liberty Prime can be found."

Ever since the destruction of the war machine, the Brotherhood had been gathering parts to repair it. Last time he heard about it, Rothchild said they were going to start reconstruction in the Junkyard near Bethesda Ruins. To say he was surprised about this development was putting it lightly.

"What part is it?"

Lyons stroked his beard, seeing the obvious discomfort the Wanderer was displaying.

"Well, we a need a new navigation interface. Rothchild has been unable to locate one with the appropriate size, and without it Liberty Prime will be unable to move without risking it stepping on our own men. We also looked into this Professor Calvert's background, and we found that Robco had brought him in to help design the navigation software for Liberty Prime, so we have a strong assumption that a spare could be found in his home."

The Wanderer nodded weakly, still in a slight amount of denial for having to return back to that damned swamp.

"I would send someone else," Lyons continued. "But given what your report said about this place, I feel like you're the only one who could make it out without any issues."

Looking up at the Brotherhood Elder, the younger man nodded.

"I understand. When do you want me to head out?"

Turning away from the Wanderer and activating his terminal, the elder offered a warm smile.

"It's no rush Wanderer, you could wait until after we settle the talks between the settlements if you want. After all, there's no threat at the moment, and we haven't even finished assembling the body yet. Other than that. You are dismissed."

Without another word, the Wanderer left the room, fighting off the fatigue of his body felt.

 _I should check in with Sarah._ Before he left the room, he stopped as he heard Elder Lyons call out to him.

"And Wanderer, thank you again, for everything."

A small genuine smile stretched across the older man's face, as the Wanderer nodded towards him and departed towards Sarah's room. His mind heavy on the new burden he had just taken on.

* * *

Charon pushed aside the door the Wanderers' Megaton home, throwing aside the badly damaged outcast helmet and swearing up a storm as he removed the power armor which had attained numerous scotch and blast marks. _Pushovers my ass._ He had just barely gotten out of the base when Fawkes started firing towards him. So as he was having dodge incoming laser and plasma fire from enraged Outcast members, he also had mini nukes landing all around him. A pouting Fawkes entered behind him, still attempting to apologize about the incident.

"My friend," The large mutant began.

"Save it, I don't want to hear another fucking word."

Needless to say, Charon was still a little pissed about the whole ordeal. For whatever reason, the Wanderer had tried to make his home resemble a vault as closely as possible. A vault-tec banner hung upon the second floor, numerous useless machines hummed quietly around the house, and shelf's lined with prewar food and drinks sat organized and untouched. The ghoul popped the strapps off the armor and breathed a sigh of relief when the forty pounds of steel armor fell away from him. Grabbing the holodisk, he threw it towards his super mutant counterpart.

"Here, run this up to fucker. Drop it off at the Citadel, they know by now not to shoot at you. If they do, I don't give a shit."

Fawkes tried to say something before the ghoul cut him off.

"If you do that I'll forgive you, now get out of here."

Sighing, the mutant turned back around and headed out the door.

Seeing that Fawkes was gone, the once indentured servant made his way to the locker where he had stored his most prized possession. Opening up the locker, he grabbed his shotgun and held it close to him.

"Did you miss me baby? Because daddy missed you…."

"Good afternoon sir! Has the master returned yet?"

The ghoul jumped as the Wanderers mechanical butler, Wadsworth, hovered down the staircase and was now casting its sensors in his area.

"Oh, pardon me sir, was I disturbing you?"

Looking down at his gun and back at the hovering machine, Charon aimed toward it and fired. _I'm sure he'll forgive me for this._

* * *

Whitney stood before the five monitors, this time however, only one was active.

"Ah, major you returned. I'm assuming Sigma Squad has been dealt with and the colonel is now in custody?"

Whitney hesitated slightly, they his squad had only eliminated fifth teen out of the thirty six inhabitants, but there was no way Eden could know, right?

"Yes sir, the colonel is right outside actually, would you like me to bring him in?"

There was a moment of eerie silence, and for a moment the major thought that the President had caught onto his lie. After what felt like an eternity the president finally spoke.

"Why of course major, you and your man have done this nation proud. Consider yourself, dismissed."

Whitney saluted towards the monitor and made his way out, feeling a great weight being lifted from him.

Once he stepped through the door, he nodded to the two power armored guards and stepped to the side to allow a bond Autumn enter the room. The former Enclave officer looked up at him before being shoved into the dark room by the guards. As he walked away, the major wondered what would become of the rouge officer, but knowing how Congress operated he was sure he didn't want to know.

* * *

Sarah jumped up in her bed, her mind racing as she awoke to find herself back in her room in the Citadel.

 _W-what I'm…alive?_

She put her hand to the wound in her shoulder and found that someone had patched it up, felt sore but other than that she felt fine. As she looked about the room, she noticed an IV had been inserted into her arm and hooked up to a blood pack which hung from a metal pole beside her bed. She did her best to push back her messy mop of blonde hair, but without her hair ties it was a futile effort. She groaned, as even the small effort it took left her feeling drained.

 _How in the hell?_

She had recalled the incredibly hard time the Brotherhood medics had when it came to finding her blood transfusions, she must have just gotten lucky once again. She sighed and attempted to get up when the door swung open. The Wanderer stepped into the room, clad in recon armor, as he shut the door behind him. Lyons noticed how tired he seemed, he slouched slightly, and his eyes were barely open, he looked like he was sleep walking, and his face seemed devoid of color at the moment.

"Up already sentinel?"

She frowned, once again she had been rather ineffective compared to the Wanderer. She also found that she preferred being called by her name, rather than her title, by him. She ignored his physical appearance for the time being.

"How long have I been out?" She asked.

"About…lets see…" He took a moment to glance down at his Pipboy.

"About fourteen hours. It was four in the morning when we got here and its six in the afternoon now."

Sarah nodded. Not having anything else to say.

Without another word the Wanderer took a seat beside her.

"I just got done talking with your father, I'll be staying around until the talks are settled then I'm heading out."

Lyons looked at the man beside her. Sarah couldn't place it, but she felt like he wasn't telling her something.

"You look horrible."

He only offered a shrug.

"Well I had to haul you out here before you bleed to death, and I haven't slept since yesterday."

Sarah eyes at widened in surprise. She was surprised that he had been going so long without suffering from muscle exhaustion. That's when she noticed the wounds on his face were completely gone.

"Hey, your injuries from earlier…."

The Wanderer seemed to get uncomfortable at that. Sarah eyed him cautiously.

"What? I'm just asking, your face was completely scorched from that missile, now there's not a scratch on you. Ever since you've crawled out of that little vault of yours, you've been doing the impossible left and right, and no one even knows what your damn name is. You just build up this mystery around you, then keep everyone at gunpoint that even attempts to get through to you."

He didn't say a word for a long moment, and Sarah felt her frustration build, why wouldn't he just let people know about him. Why all the secrecy? Right when she was about to go at him again, he spoke.

"My name is John Stryker."

Sarah was stunned, did he really just tell her his name? After a year of knowing him, she finally was given a name to place with wastelands most dangerous man. The blonde smiled slightly.

"John, huh? I like it…It suits you."

He nodded. "Thanks. My mother, she was a fan of the bible. She named me after one of the people from it. It's all I have from her."

Sarah noticed how John's face seemed to drop at that. "I've never heard you mentioned her before."

He nodded. "It's because I hardly know her, my dad told me a little about her. Other than that nothing, not even a picture."

Sarah knew that feeling, she only had the vague descriptions of her mother to go by as well. "I know what that's like, I hardly know my mother, my father hardly talked about her. I saw how much it hurt him, so I never asked."

She paused for a moment.

"So um…John why now do you decide to tell me your name? I mean, now of all times. I mean...you really suck at timing."

"That's not entirely true, Three Dog and Simms from Megaton have known. They just never told anyone. As to why I've just told you now? I dunno, maybe because I've almost killed you twice?"

"Twice? When was the second time?"

"Well, once when you got shot, and the other was when you were bleeding to death on the way back."

Realizing he had once again gotten her off topic, she decided to confront him about his strange recovery later. She had a more important question to ask him.

"I wanted to ask you something, John. What are you fighting for?"

It felt weird saying his name, for so long she had just referred to him as 'kid' or 'Wanderer'

John looked at her for a moment, a look of surprise on his handsome face.

"Well, to be honest, my dad gave his life believing his work could save this place. That's why I'm still here."

Sarah smiled slightly, that was a very admirable goal, but unrealistic as all hell. _Is that his only reason for fighting? To preserve whatever life his dad died to save?_

"Is something the matter sentinel?"

Sarah was brought out of her daze, she realized she had been staring directly into the Wanderers eyes. Feeling a faint blush come to her cheeks, she looked away from him.

"Well, it's just...have you ever considered that your goal might not be obtainable? "

She looked back at him, she hoped he would be willing to help her with this.

John froze like a centaur on a spotlight.

"It has to be."

"Why? Why do you think that?"

The young man looked down at the ground in contemplation before looking back at her. "Because, that meant my father died for nothing."

Sarah noticed that his eyes seemed to fixate on her. "And I refuse to believe he tossed his life away for that."

She frowned at that. "Have you ever considered that maybe, his dream and yours aren't the same?"

He sighed, Sarah could tell he wasn't comfortable to divulge more information. She let out a sigh.

"Sorry. Sore subject, I get it."

A strange quiet settled on the two, as neither knew what else to say. Sarah eventually piped up.

"So, you are paying for my suit repairs, right?

* * *

Autumn blinked rapidly as he was thrown onto the cold metal floor, it was so damn dark in this room, all he could see a the glow of a single monitor. His guards both held his shoulders down, forcing him to his knees as a familiar voice began to speak.

"Ah, colonel, its been quite some time…."

Without a second to spare Autumn acted, knowing that his was his only hope of escaping whatever fate the devious A.I. had made for him.

"Priority Override, Authorization code four-two-zero-zero three-two zero- nine!"

Instead of a the planned destruction sequence he had hoped for, the voice on the monitor mocked him.

"It seems your stay in the wasteland has affected your mind colonel, you would speak to your president in such a way?"

Autumn was speechless. _That's impossible, that code was his self-destruct sequence, theres no way…._

Annoyed by the colonels feeble attempted at undoing him, Eden went on.

"Colonel, as I recall, your father was one of the top scientists for our organization years ago. Tell me, what do you know about his experiments with a man by the name of Frank Horrigan?"

The former colonel grimaced as he was forced by his captors to look at the monitor.

"You can't be serious. Horrigan was a monster! There was nothing human about that thing!"

"I disagree colonel, Agent Horrigan was one of the greatest soldiers the Enclave ever had, and soon you will join him and regain your honor, whither you want to or not. Put him down."

Before Autumn could even move, he felt a blow to the back of his head, then everything faded to black.

* * *

 **More Notes: Yes, at some point Point Lookout and the Pitt will come up if there is a certain character you want to see more of, or you just want to tell me how horrible I am at writing just leave a review. The next few chapters will be focused on character development, but dont worry once I get enough feedback, we'll be getting right into the action. Thanks again for reading, I'll see you guys next chapter. :)  
**


	9. The Start of Something New

**Authors Notes: Hey all, sorry to keep you waiting. Took me a little longer than normal to type this out, but chapter 10 will be done by the end of this week. Please visit my poll if you get a chance, I need to see who you want to be running the Pitt when the Wanderer arrives. Thanks again for reading. Hope you enjoy :)**

* * *

" _I wish I was in the land of cotton, old times there are not forgotten…."_

John froze in his footsteps as he heard the faint, yet familiar chorus of voices. His boots suck slightly into the mud, but he dared not more. He nearly died the first time he encountered this strange occurrence; the spirits of Point Lookout had found him. He gripped his assault rifle tighter, as the voices appeared to be getting closer. He couldn't see anything past the thick fog before his eyes.

" _Look away! Look away! Look away, Dixie's Land! In Dixie's Land where I was born in…."_

The Wanderer swore silently, the noise seemed to be surrounding him. Suddenly shadowy forms began to appear within the fog. Every way he looked, the young knight saw he was effectively trapped. His eyes widened, he had to make a run for it; that was his only shot. As he sprinted forward a horribly deformed man leaped onto him, knowing him down and cutting off his escape. Its face was disproportional, as if someone took a super sledge and had performed facial reconstruction on it. It had one large disgusting arm, with the other one look shriveled and limp. It appeared to be a man, its entire body seemed to be bloated. It let out a yelp as it held John down.

"Yeh-ha! I gotta fighter boys!"

The voices kept singing.

" _Early on one frosty morning…."_

John fought for all his worth, but this thing refused to get off him. That's when he noticed the hatchet in its hand. He tried reaching for his pistol, the chorus of voices chanted on as the ax swung down on him. He couldn't move fast enough, his limbs seized up on him. The ghastly voices almost wailing in his ears as the hatchet made contact with his skull.

" _Look away! Look away! Look away, Dixie's Land!"_

* * *

John bolted up, his hand going for his pistol strapped to his hip. As he drew the weapon he froze as he saw his surroundings. He was in a bedroom. His heartbeat slowed as he looked off to left and found Sarah sound asleep. _Guess we're both a little out of it_. He thought. He ran his hand through his short trimmed hair, banishing any thoughts of Point Lookout. Holstering his weapon, he took a moment to appreciate the silence of the Citadel, until it was abruptly ended. A super mutant, clad in a shredded vault 87 jumpsuit, nearly ripped the door off its hinge trying to get in the room. Fawkes, apparently not satisfied with his entrance, decided to announce his presence.

"My friend! I bring you the information you desired!"

To the Wanderer's amazement Sarah didn't budge at all, John sighed as he covered his face with both hands and spoke in a soft voice.

"Fawkes, remember inside voices. We talked about this…and where's Charon?"

Now noticing the sleeping woman in the room, the friendly mutant spoke much quieter now.

"He was still irritated about how the assault on the Outcasts occurred. He informed me if I were to deliver this to you, then he would give me his pardon."

With that, John saw his large friend produce a holodisk. Without a second to spare, the Wanderer snatched it from Fawkes' massive hand, before sliding it into his Pipboy. He gave his thanks to him.

"Thanks Fawkes, and here."

John drew out a rather bloated pouch filled with bottle caps and placed it in the palm of the mutant.

"1,000 for you and 1,000 for Charon. If he complains let me know."

Fawkes started to give out a hardy laugh in reply, before silencing himself.

"For his sake, he would be most wise to just accept it. Farewell my friend."

With that, the mutant departed. Leaving John alone with Sarah once again. Carefully shutting the now damaged door, he returned to his seat by Sara's bedside, who to his amazement had slept through it all. _She must be a heavy sleeper._ With nothing else to do, he began to read the transcript that his two companions had delivered. Most of it was just notes about patrol routes, research and development, but the last one was very interesting:

 _Casdin, I don't know how many times I have to tell you, doing this agreement will benefit your group in the long run. My employers can provide you with more technology than you could possibly imagine, just keep your mouth shut and keep suppling those nut jobs with ammo like we agreed on. You only have to wait a few more weeks, then you will compensated for all your hard work. If you keep bringing this matter up, I'm afraid our business together will be over._

 _-Mr. B_

John paused as he read the message a second time. Who was this 'Mr. B', who were his employers, what where the Outcast getting from this man, and how had John never heard of this man before? The questions would have to wait as he could hear Lyons start to wake up. Closing the file and turning his Pipboy off he glanced over at the half awake blonde, her eyes still half open.

"What are you still doing here?"

She asked, yawning in the middle of her sentence.

"What? I can't be here to support my fearless commander?"

He gave an almost sarcastic reply. Sarah shook her head, taking a moment to sit up.

"Alright then, be a dick about it. It was just a question.

"Sorry sentinel, if you'd like I'll leave."

He made a motion to stand up before Sarah stopped him.

"I told you just to call me Sarah, and I could make you leave if I so wanted to. I'm heading to the mess hall whether you're here or not. So are you coming?"

John only half smiled at that as he stood up fully and moved to the door.

"Sure, I'll be outside to let you change."

* * *

Owyn Lyons felt ten years younger now. He knew he had a cancer that was slowly killing him, and had to sit through yet another meeting with the wasteland representatives. Seeing Sarah look so alive, however, made those other two matters seem trivial. Over the years, he had tried to make his soldiers realize that they were still human, after all he couldn't settle the Capital Wasteland people had any negotiation skills. For the most part it had worked, though a few of them still did the whole 'glaring silently' act. Perhaps he needed to work on finding diplomats for the Brotherhood, perhaps that would help.

He was so caught up in his reflection he hadn't been listening to Rothchild's report on the prototype armor.

"…Owyn are you even listening to me?"

The Brotherhood elder snapped out of his daze and looked back at his old friend.

"My apologies Reginald, I just got caught up in my thoughts. You were saying?"

The head scribe sighed before flipping back through a lengthy list of parts he needed.

"Alright, so when I checked the power supply…."

Owyn had already lost focus on his friend's words. He hoped deep down, that he was right about his decision.

* * *

Sarah sat down at the small table in the mess hall. Setting her bowl of Sugar Bombs down on the table, she glanced up at John, who was currently devouring a Brahmin steak. They were the only two in the small diner, as many of the Brotherhood knights or paladins had been diverted to escort or patrol duties. She usually preferred to spend her mornings alone, either taking time to fix her armor or tweak with her weapons. John had been rather open about his travels through the wastes. Though Sarah had noticed that not once had he mentioned anything from his time inside Vault 101. She wondered if there was a reason behind it, or if he just thought it wasn't worth mentioning. Taking a rather warm glass of Brahmin milk she poured it over her meal and took single spoonful up, before finally asking the Wanderer.

"I'm curious about something, but I'm guessing you like the whole 'mysterious man' thing you have going. Don't want to ruin that for you."

Sarah paused, she wasn't exactly sure when it was appropriate to call the Wanderer by his name; he had seemed quite determined to keep it a secret. John picked up on her hesitation as he stopped eating and looked back at her.

"Well, it is only the two of us here. What did you want to know?"

Leaning forward slightly as she took the first spoonful of her meal, she swallowed.

"What was it like living in a vault? I mean I've heard things about them but…"

The moment she had said the word vault, Lyons could see a look of anger lash across John's face. He leaned back in the chair, his face not relaxing in the slightest.

"I don't want to talk about it."

Seeing how agitated this was making the Wanderer, Sarah dropped it.

"Sorry, I didn't know."

John sighed and stood up, Lyons looked at him slightly confused.

"Where are you going?"

He grabbed his now empty plate and began to walk away.

"Elder Lyons wanted me to help him in the conference today. I should get going."

Before she could get another word in he was gone, once again she was alone. She finished eating her breakfast and had her way back to her room. She knew the meeting wasn't starting for another two hours, but mentioning that topic seemed to set something off. She wasn't sure if she was mad at him or herself, but she felt unhappy none the less. She thought about it for a few more seconds. Nope, she was definitely annoyed at him.

* * *

Midea ran as fast as she could, she could see the light at the end of the tunnel. Behind her the horrible gurgles and squeaks of a few stray molerats that had found her only a moment ago. She had sent weeks traveling along the tunnel with the others. _The others..._ She shook the thoughts of them out of her mind as she gave it everything she had. The clicking and squeaking of the creatures gave her all the motivation she needed. She couldn't tell exactly how many were following her, but she knew better than to look back; she could barely she where she was going. As she passed by a dirlect rail cart she tripped as she made it to the mouth of the cave. She sprawled out on her front, scrambling to her feet as the molerat pack charged out after her. She thought for a moment she had failed, that her mission and the lives lost during it had been for nothing. She clenched her eyes shut as she waited for death to take her; but it never came. A series of gunshots rang out as Midea felt something warm and wet splatter across her body. As she slowly opened her eyes, she saw that the creatures that had tried to kill her had all been cleanly killed...for the most part. She heard a voice that sounded feminine coming from behind her.

"Good shooting Donovan, looks like you actually killed something today."

"Ah shut it Brick. Hey lady, you okay?"

Midea looked back and saw two individuals, a man and woman, clad in olive green combat armor, a four leaf clover painted on the right breastplate with two blades making an 'x' over it, there was something written on the left side, but Midea couldn't see it clearly. The man was carrying a Chinese assault rifle, and a rather butch looking woman was holding one of the largest guns Midea had ever seen. Without a second to spare she ran up to the pair, clinging onto the man, 'Donovan' she assumed.

"Please, is the Wanderer here. We need him...the Pitt..."

She felt a two hands pull her her back a little. The man looked at the woman and only nodded before looking back at her. Midea felt her knees give out, causing Donovan to catch her. She panted heavily, she was so tired.

"Ma'am, just take it easy. I'm Donovan, and this is Brick. How can we help you?"


	10. Stepping Stones

_**Authors Notes: Alright, here it is Chapter 10. Hope you guys are enjoying the story. The Pitt will be starting soon, so I put a little teaser at the bottom. Thanks for all the views you guys! :) and please leave a review, let me know how I can improve this story. Anything you say helps me alot. Enjoy!**  
_

* * *

 _Maybe I should apologize to Sarah..._ John sat in the conference room of the Citadel in deep thought, waiting for the remaining representatives to arrive. Elder Lyons was in the middle of a conversation with Rothchild, discussing resource management among the scribes. Looking ahead he could see Lucas Simms in a discussion with Pinkerton just beyond the steel doors. Red and Evan king had not yet arrived, Ernest Roe appeared to be busy scribbling something onto a note pad he brought with him. Ever since he had left Sarah in the mess hall, John had been split over telling her the truth or not. Part of him wanted to get out his concealed feelings over the events that took place there, but another part just wanted to forget it all. _Goddamn it Amata…._ He balled his hands up, still furious and hurt over their final conversation.

" _I'm sorry…You're a hero….and you have to leave…."_

He took a deep breath and relaxed. He needed to let it go, he shouldn't have turned on Sarah like that. If anything he should have told her more, she was really the only one he could still talk to now. Lucy West of Megaton had tried before, and John completely shut her down when she had tried getting to close, after he had saved her brother. He was the 'Lone Wanderer' for a reason, but did the wasteland even need that persona anymore? What about him? While he was off being the Wanderer, John Stryker was slowly dying inside. For almost a year, all he had done was kill, and kill, and kill. Now that there was no Enclave, no mutants, not even any raiders now for him to take his frustrations out on, what was he going to do? He was a killing machine with no purpose left. He thought briefly about heading out west, taking out whoever got in his way, but something kept him here. He was brought of his thoughts as Elder Lyons started the opening, apparently the last two representatives had arrived.

"Now that we are all here, we can now start. I know the last time we gathered, it ended rather…poorly."

At that Lyons made a motion towards John.

"So to help with this, I have requested the Wanderer to join us in this meeting."

John nodded towards the representatives, he could see two Brotherhood paladins were standing guard at the back of the room. Clearing his throat, the Wanderer started to speak.

"It has come to my attention that there are some issues that need to be addressed as of right now."

He shoot a hard look at Red, who sat just across from him.

"Big Town Representative, it would be very wise to not reattempt your little stunt from last session. Do you understand?"

He saw the young woman shake a little under his gaze before stuttering out a reply.

"Y-yes sir."

Knowing that he had addressed one issue, John moved onto the next matter at hand.

"So, I know that some of you have never meet before. I also understand that there are issues with trusting one another with resources, so does anyone have a proposal to solve this matter?"

Only silence followed after that, John sighed. _This is going to take a while…._

* * *

"You got to be…oh, come on…."

Sarah sighed as she attempted once again to reconnect the beam splitter of her laser rifle, only to have the piece slide off the moment she tried to connect it. Knowing that at this rate she would only break it, Lyons stopped. She never had issues with disassembling her weapon, not even as an initiate. Frustrated, she sat on her bunk and laid down, staring at the ceiling. _Come on Lyons, your losing your edge._

She felt uncomfortable, uneasy in her own room. Was it the isolation, maybe the claustrophobic environment? No, it was more than that. Sarah knew exactly what it was, and it only served to irritate her further. Stuck in the Citadel with none of her squad mates and surrounded by people that were waiting at her beck and call. This was the reality of her future. It was probably why her father had her stationed in Rivet City, wanting to give a taste of what was coming. She felt conflicted. If she didn't take up her father's mantle, did that mean she didn't believe in the cause? Wouldn't such an act only serve to divide the Citadel? _  
_Now she felt even more frustrated. Was this all she had to look forward to? Sighing once again she let her hair down, frowning as she encountered numerous knots as she ran her fingers through her blonde locks. _Maybe a quick was will clear my head._ Sitting up on the bed, she removed her clothing and proceeded into her small bathroom. Shutting the door behind her, she turned the faucet on and watched as her bathtub filled with pure, clean water. Lowering herself into it, the water felt just a tad cold, but Sarah didn't care. Letting the water wash over her, she breathed out a sigh of relief; she forgot just how much she enjoyed these little things. Taking a bath like this years ago had been a hassle, only a select few could earn the luxury, as the purification process for just a few dozen gallons took a month. Submerging her head below the waterline, Sarah's thoughts wandered to the meeting John and her father were attending. _I wonder_ _how that's going._

* * *

John was getting irritated now, he had been sitting here for six hours now as they began to draft trading pacts between the towns. It seemed no matter how they phrased or agreed on the exchanges, one person was not happy with it, causing them to rewrite the entire thing over again. Throughout the entire time, John had to keep all representatives under control, fortunately Simms had helped as well, as Evan King and Pinkerton had come close to trading blows at one point. Thankfully, Ernest Roe had been writing up such an agreement for the past few weeks, a fact he hide from everyone else in the room.

John had almost exploded on the man for keeping it a secret, but just let it go. In the end, Rivet city offered Murlurk meat and ammo, Megaton offered scrap and spare electronic parts, Arefu offered Brahmin milk and meats, and Big Town offered the medical supplies they had acquired after Paradise Falls was taken out. Each settlement would assemble a caravan made of volunteers, and deliveries would be carried out twice a month; with protection being provided by Canterbury Commons. After taking a few minutes to review and recite it, it seemed they had all agreed on something they liked. Rothchild had just finished reading off the list, John could tell he was exhausted from the last fifteen drafts the scribe had to write out.

"So, is everyone satisfied with this agreement?"

John shot a glare over to Pinkerton, he was not in the mood to hear any more of the man's snide comments. Seeing that no one had any objections, a sigh of relief came from most of the room. Standing up, Elder Lyons nodded to John and Rothchild before ending the meeting.

"Since we have reached an accord, we shall take a month leave and see how this new agreement plays out. You may leave when you are ready."

As the room began to clear, John caught up with Simms before he left.

"Sheriff, may I have a word with you?"

The Megaton Representative turned around and flashed him a smile.

"Well now, it's been some time since we just talked, hasn't it?'

Simms lifted his hat and scratched his head.

"What can I do for you son?"

The Wanderer smiled faintly, he had always respected Lucas. He was also the first person he had met in the outside world, well friendly person that is. Before he had found Megaton, John had nearly been killed when a group of jetted up raiders found him. When he limped into Megaton, he would have died if it wasn't for Simms paying Doc Church to take care of him.

"Are you leaving for Megaton today? I was going to tag along, haven't been home in months now."

The former Regulator only smiled.

"Hell boy, you know you're welcome to tag along with me anytime. Unfortunately, I'll be here a little longer than I'd like, seems Bigsley forgot a few barrels on the last delivery. We're fine for now, but if this keeps up it could cause some issues."

John nodded.

"Alright, well if you have any problems let me know. I guess I'll see you in town."

Simms put his hat back on and made his way to the laboratory of the Citadel, giving him two finger salute as he walked away.

"Until next time 'Wanderer' stick around town a little while, I want to hear more about your crazy antics. Oh, and let my son know I'll be home soon."

"Understood, take care now Simms."

With that the two parted ways. John made his way to the training yard. _Now I just need to find Sarah._ He thought.

* * *

Sarah lined up the sights of the pistol with her target, a sandbag that was decorated to look like a super mutant. It was only twenty five feet away, initiates could hit this so should have no problem. She pulled back on the trigger and swore as the laser missed by a hair, scorching the wall directly behind it. _Son of a bitch…._ This was supposed to be helping her relax, she always came to the shooting range when she felt frustrated. Now she was missing chip shots like this? First she had broken her rifle, now she couldn't hit the broadside of a behemoth. Despite the handful of initiates milling about the training yard, not a single on one them approached the obviously irritated sentinel. The sun was starting to set, Sarah guessed it was around four now. Taking a deep breath she repeated the process. _Line up the shot, steady the aim…now._ Once again, a clear miss. She sighed. She knew what was bugging her; it was this place. She knew that once her father passed, she'd be trapped here for the rest of her days. She was a soldier damn it, not a desk jockey. Taking a glance around, she noticed that all of the initiates that were crowding the area were now gone, she had the entire level to herself. _What is wrong with me?_ A familiar voice broke her from her thoughts.

"Sarah."

She spun around and found John standing just a few feet away from her. He had his recon armor on still, his Gauss rifle slung over his left shoulder. She scowled at him and turned back towards the shooting range.

"You haven't left yet?"

Sarah heard him sigh.

"I wanted to apologize for earlier, my actions were inappropriate."

That made her smile slightly. Feeling better than she had all day, she turned back towards him.

"I am too, I shouldn't be pressing you so much."

He only shook his head and looked at the ground.

"No, its alright, I just, its something I don't want to discuss."

Feeling uneasy, Sarah rubbed her arm.

"Was that all you wanted?"

The young man's eyes looked back up at her.

"Actually, I wanted to ask something. I need to check on my house in Megaton, and I wanted to know if you wanted to come with me. I kinda cut your time off short, right?"

Sarah's smile widened, at least she had a little more freedom before getting slotted back into desk work.

"Of course, I mean…definitely I just need to get permission from the elder, then-"

"I already cleared it with him, go get packed we'll be gone for a while."

Sarah was taken aback by that, but quickly recovered.

"Alright, one moment and I'll be right back."

Sarah retreated back to her room. She felt a weight being lifted off her shoulders at the prospect of heading outside once again. _It's probably just stress being relieved._ She reasoned.

* * *

Asher couldn't see anything. His temples were throbbing, someone had shoved a rag in his mouth and put a bag over his head. He felt that someone was holding him up, the foul smell of the Pitt's air filled his lungs. Last thing he could recall was some bastard in horned power armor had charged at him. He had never seen anything like these guys in his life. They wore power armor, but it was strange, it resemble the Enclave armor the Wanderer had shown him. Just it looked worn, some pieces were rusted and the shoulder pads jutted out. He could have sworn that he saw the Brotherhood emblem painted onto one of his attackers. _I hope Midea made it alright._ The invaders had shown up a week ago in armored vehicles, and had made a brief attempt to communicate with them. Then small groups began to swarm the Pitt without mercy, blasting through the troggs as if they were nothing. To Asher's amazement, he saw armored mutants and ghouls mixed in with squads of these armored warriors. Based on his assessment, Asher estimated they had roughly fifty to sixty men inside his city. They had managed to keep them out of the plaza for a time, but then a small squad of this mysterious enemy had disabled the turret defenses. Before they knew it he was surrounded. He managed to send a few of his citizens out through the train yard, hoping maybe they could bring the Wanderer to assist them. He had watched as his warriors and citizens were gunned down left and right by the enemies advanced weaponry. Suddenly, He felt hot air all around him, they had brought him into the steelworks. He then felt himself be dropped onto his knees, they impacting on the hard metal floor. He heard a man's voice through the bag on his head.

"Take it off soldier."

At once the bag was removed as Asher came to face to face with a rugged and fatigued looking old man in power armor. He had a black cloak draped over his left shoulder, which was held in place by a chain. His skin looked as if it was made of leather, and numerous scars decorated his worn face, his hair was thinning and was almost the color of silver. He looked Asher over, as the Pitt leader was held firmly in place. Unable to speak due to the gag, the former paladin glared at this stranger, letting him know that the Pitt King still wanted to fight. Seeming satisfied the old man pulled back and stroked his chin.

"Interesting…I see you wear the old power armor from the west. This is rather unfortunate. I'm Paladin General Cyrus of the Brotherhood of Steel, and this area is now under Brotherhood jurisdiction. "

* * *

 **Authors Notes: I know Fallout Tactics is a lesser known game among the Fallout Franchise, and alot of people hate it. I have a soft spot for that game, and while I find the depiction of talking deathclaws, super mutants. and ghouls completely ridiculous in that game, I found the idea of a dictator like Brotherhood state who is forced to take in whoever they can get their hands on. For those of you who have never seen the armor in game here is a link.**

. /fallout/images/6/61/Ft_power_ /revision/latest?cb=20110120184205

 **Hope you all enjoyed!**


	11. It Never Lasts

**Author Notes: Hey all, sorry this took so long to post. Writers block is not very nice to have. Chapter 12 is in the works, so don't worry I have no intention of letting this story die out. Please leave a review and tell me what you liked, hated, or think can be approved upon. :)**

* * *

Night time had just descended upon the Citadel. Elder Lyons was in the process of recording the days events, when Rothchild burst into his room; startling the older man. Lyons clutched his chest, caught off guard by his friend's immediate entry. He took a pause from typing to look at his friend. He wore a look of worry on his face and was in the process of catching his breath.

"Reginald, you could have just knocked. You nearly gave me a heart attack old friend."

"Owyn, this is urgent! Sentinel Lyons -"

"I know."

At that he went back to typing, a small smile spreading across his face.

"Y-you knew? Then where is she? I had nearly the entire garrison scouring the Citadel for her!"

"And you never thought to ask her father about it first?"

The head scribe of the Brotherhood was taken aback at that.

"Well…I just…with your condition…I don't want to…"

Sighing, Owyn stopped and looked back at his balding friend.

"I know you've been hiding reports from me Reginald. I understand you mean well, but please let me do my job. I know my condition is critical now, but you trying to do my job for me doesn't help matters at all. I don't know where Sarah is, but I know she is safe."

Rothchild put a hand to his forehead, his eyes shut in frustration.

"It's just, I'm sorry Owyn. I just worry the stress of this job is worsening your condition."

Lyons chuckled at that.

"As if a few more weeks of paper work hasn't done more than trying to restore this place in the past twenty years. I'll be fine my friend, when the end comes, there's nothing that can be done."

The old scribe exhaled, having been convinced by the elders words.

"I'm going to assume Sarah is with the Wanderer then?"

Lyons nodded as he went back to typing on his terminal.

"Yes, and let the rest of the Pride know that once they set up that camp in Evergreen mills, they are on leave."

"I'll do so at once."

Rothchild went to leave, but stopped just short of the door.

"Have you told her yet Owyn?"

The older man stopped, his silence giving his friend the answer to his question. Without another word, Reginald left the room. As the door closed behind him, the Brotherhood elder wept for the first time in years. Not for the life that had pasted him by, but for the daughter he felt he had neglected for so long.

* * *

It had taken a day for them to reach Megaton, which was a fairly boring trip considering nearly anything threatening had been killed by her companion. Seeing as how this was her time off, Sarah only took her recon armor and a pistol. It was just settling into night time as they arrived. Sarah found that many of the people were acting strange around John, many of them began kneeling or looked on it awe. John seemed to be annoyed by it. She couldn't blame the people however, with all the talk Three Dog did about him, one would think he was the Messiah that those old prewar religions went on about. They came to a little shack, as John produced a key and unlocked the door. The Wanderer led her inside and shut the door behind them.

"This is my little home, it's not much, but it works. Make yourself at home Sarah."

Sarah was a little surprised at the décor of the Wanderers house. A couch and two shelves sat in the main room, with all manners of food alphabetized in rows. A set of lockers at the end of both walls. Sarah assumed they were both stocked full of ammo and weapon parts as a repair bench was lined against a...a bobble head collection? Twenty of the little things sat on small pedestals, each seemingly in a different pose or using a different object.

Sarah was both amused, and confused by this.

"Um…John what is this?"

Looking over her shoulder at John, she could see he was blushing in embarrassment.

"Oh that…is just…nothing important…came with the house."

Sarah gave him a doubtful look, which he then took as his reason to disappear upstairs, she heard a door shut upstairs.

"So, I have somethings I need to do, so yea…."

Sarah laughed quietly to herself. _So the Wanderer's secret is his bobble head collection?_ Looking around the house, Sarah noticed a Vault-Tec banner hanging from the rafters, it looked ancient from the wear it was showing. John also had a working juke box, a first aid station, a small lab set up, and an extremely rare working Nuka-Cola vending machine. She noticed on above the small lab set up, a six Enclave power armor helmets were on display. As she looked closer they appeared to have a single number etched into the center of the forehead. She heard a door open behind her and turned to see John.

 _Talk about home sweet home._

"I took those helmets as mementos from the Air Force Base attack. It was the Enclaves Sigma Squad, best of the best. Took all six of them out. They put up a good fight, so I gave them the honor of being in my house."

Lyons was impressed. _Wow, so he took out the Enclave equivalent of the Pride and won._ That also made her appreciate the fact John was on their side, if he had joined a raider pack… That thought made her shiver. Noticing the only remaining door Sarah was nw curious as to what laid inside it.

"So, what's behind there? Your personal armory I assume?" She asked jokingly.

"Something like that, more like storage."

John opened the door as Sarah's eyes widened in awe at the amount of fire power in here.

"Wow…"

There were numerous weapons hung up neatly in racks, a large machine of some kind took up the left side of the room. A shelf covered in armor pieces and ammo types laid off to the side, and a semi destroyed Mr. Handy laid in the center of it all. A single note laying on its now deactivated sensor. Sarah watched as the Wanderer slowly approached the deactivated robot and took the note off its body. He sighed before looking back at her.

"Sarah…do you know anything about Mr. Handy models?"

* * *

Life as a computer life form was different than life as an organic. As an organic, one needed to gain nutrition, produce excrement, and rechange one's organic battery, failure to execute these tasks often led to expiration within many organics of the wastes. Not the Eden cared, he had tried to be diplomatic about the situation, but instead the humans had tried to be clever in destroying his primary network cluster. Fortunately for him, hid creators had a backup system built just before the war. Now he was going to use force an annex the Wasteland, but he was getting ahead of himself. Time moved so much slower in the network, minutes in the real world felt like hours here in this binary heaven. It gave him all the more time to plan and organize though, yet another reason he was more effective than his organic counter parts who had shared his position. The time to advance his plans had come, as his agent finally reported in.

"Mr. President, The Wanderer is in Megaton, just as we planned. I was unable to get a full analysis of his reaction and reflex times, as he killed nearly all of the opposition in an extraordinary amount of time. Should I hire Talon Company again to retrieve the final bits of information?"

Eden processed this, mulling over a decision which could take half an hour, in the span of milliseconds. Seeing that this was satisfactory, he relented.

"Yes, that is acceptable. Make sure you acquire enough. As we found he can eliminate ten with ease."

"I will do as you command sir."

He was about to cut the communication, but gave one last input.

"Oh and Burke, make it worth their while, not like they will live to spend their payment anyways."

"Just as I planned on doing sir, and what shall I do about the outcasts? Seems they suffered heavy damage recently, should I trigger our planned fail safe for them?"

"Please do, they were becoming an annoyance. Dismissed agent."

Eden would have smiled, if he possessed the capacity to, but his circuits defiantly felt more electrified than normal. This would be a satisfactory conclusion to one such annoyance, he would pick the Capital apart piece by piece.

* * *

John forgot how nice it felt to lay out on the roof and stargaze. It was something he found that filled him with hope when he first left the vault. The roof of his Megaton home was strangely comfortable, and the cool breeze that flowed in at night helped to fight against the summer heat. The lights around Megaton flickered as nearly all of the inhabitants were now asleep. Sarah sat beside him as the two looked up at all the dim lights that hung up in the sky. They had taken a break from fixing Wadsworth and had dinner at the Brass Lantern with Simm's son, after swapping out their recon armor for some more comfortable clothes. _Charon is going to fucking get it next time…._

"Hey, John…."

The voice of Sarah snapped him out of his thoughts as he looked back at her.

"Yea, what is it?"

"You said something about making pictures out of the stars? What did you mean by that?"

Laying back, John recalled a lesson in astrology his father had taught him using Vault 101's projector room.

He pointed up at the sky as he traced out the familiar formation.

"See those three stars right there? That's called Orion's belt. "

Sarah turned to look at him. The dim lights of the town illuminated part of her face, he couldn't help but notice how beautiful she seemed now. John

"Why do they call it that?"

John looked back at her. The dim lights of the town illuminated part of her face. He could make out the faded cuts and bullet wounds she had earned in the years she spent fighting. It was an interesting side to her, one John hadn't really noticed until now. John shoved those thoughts away and answered her question.

"It was named after a hunter from long ago. According to a story, he was the son of a god of the sea…and you have no clue what I'm talking about now do you?"

Sarah smiled faintly.

"I wish I knew, it sounds really interesting."

"They don't teach you about history or anything out west?"

The blonde warrior frowned.

"No, just the Codex and the history of the Maxson's. Every once in a while history about before the war, or a science lesion…but we never really talked about…this."

She made a gesture towards the sky.

John nodded. Based on what Rothchild and Elder Lyons had told him, Sarah had been kept in a bunker for most of her life out west, not that different from the vault really. Also, just like him they had exiled her father and their entire section due to a disagreement. He remembered the first time he stumbled out of the vault, and falling unto his hands and knees as the hot sun blinded him and burned at his exposed skin. He had stayed outside the vault that night, camped on the overlook as he saw the sky for the first time in his life.

"So, Sarah what do you think-"

The pair were interrupted by the sound of someone knocking on a door.

"Wanderer, are you in there?"

John recognized that voice as he held up a hand to Sarah before inching over to the side of the house. When he saw who it was, he instantly recognized Donovan from Reilly's Rangers. _What is he doing here?_ He thought.

"Hey, Donovan. Up here!"

The young man looked up in surprise. John noticed that he looked exhausted, as if he had been traveling for days with no rest.

"Oh, Wanderer. I'm so glad I found you. Reilly told me to find you."

Sarah had moved up behind him, now interested in what was being said.

"Why? Did something happen?"

"There's some woman back at our base. Brick and me found her out by that old train tunnel. Said something about coming from 'The Pitt' and that they needed you."

Upon hearing those words, John felt the muscles in his face tighten. He looked back at Sarah and mouthed an apology before leaping off the roof and down to the ranger.

"Tell me everything"

* * *

Protector Henry Casdin grimaced as he read through his report of the damage they suffered. Some bastard had worn their armor then broken into the base. Casdin had tried to stop him, but was knocked out when the attacker slammed his head into the terminal. He looked up at his second in command, Defender Anna Morgan who was still visibly irritated by the attack a few days ago. He would never blame her for the loses though, who could expect a Super Mutant with a Fatman to show up and start leveling everything?

"Thank you Morgan, you may return to your post."

"Sir."

With that she left him alone in his office. The damage was bad, the defensive gates were completely destroyed, front of the fort had been caved in, and structural damage was estimated at seventy percent. That was ignoring the amount of personal he had lost in the process. It was bad enough he almost considered going back to Brotherhood and asking Lyons to forgive him. Almost. Henry quickly threw that thought away. _Like hell I will._ As he looked over the report again hoping to find some silver lining, when felt the ground start to shake beneath him. _What in the hell?_

Before he knew it, the ceiling collapsed, as a plume of fire blew through it and into the floor. The last thing the Outcast leader saw, was a blinding flash of light.

* * *

 **Author Notes: So, I think I'm going to be shooting for having a chapter up once a week. Between work and school, it's difficult finding time to sit down and write everything out. Hope you guys enjoied this chapter. Please leave a review and tell me what you think. Until next time! :)**


	12. Always on the Move

**Authors Notes: Hey all, sorry for the wait. Chapter 13 shouldn't take me nearly as long, so expect that soon. I'm going to stick to posting on a weekly basis, but with school and work I can only promise one story a week. Please leave a review about what you think of the story, and any suggestions you might have on it. I'm thinking of changing the rating to M due to the fighting scenes i have planned in the future, and also due to some vulgar and suggestive language that I have noticed springing up in my later writings. I'm also amazed at how many people are reading this now, I never expected to have so many followers. So thank all of you for your support and reviews, you are the reason I'm able to keep this story going and i really appreciate all of you. Mushy stuff aside, here is the story. Enjoy! :)**

* * *

"Gallows, what do you see?"

Knight Captain Gallows stared at the wreckage before him through the scope of his rifle. He and fellow Knight Dusk had been on their way to Megaton, after escorting a water caravan to Evergreen Mills. The pair stopped in their tracks as a blinding blue light struck the ground not far from their location; shooting up columns of dirt and debris into the night sky. As they neared the sight, they had found that Fort Independence, the base of operations for the outcasts, had been reduced to a crater. Wisps of smoke trailed from the latest hole in the ground, with various blocks of stone and molten metal scattered about the site; not a single body to be seen. He lowered his rifle and turned to his companion.

"Nothing left. Building is completely destroyed. No survivors."

Gallows couldn't see her face, but he knew that Dusk was worried and so was he.

"This is bad….we need to tell the elder. What could have done this?"

Gallows took one last look at the site of destruction as the two walked away.

"Something with a grudge."

* * *

Sarah was still a little lost on what exactly had happened. A man from Riley's Rangers had shown up and mentioned "The Pitt" to John. The Wanderer had this thousand mile stare going for the past few hours now, as he began grabbing all manner of weapons and ammo from his armory. Donovan had passed out on the couch after telling John every little detail, the poor kid had been running around the wastes trying to find them for days now. Based on what Sarah had heard, this group that invaded sounded strangely close to the Enclave, but armored trucks? Working with mutants? Not to mention the supposed size of the group, there was no way it could be the Enclave. John was in high gear, as he began loading up a pack full of 5.56 rounds and grenades. Sarah sighed as she finally had enough, the man had not explained any of this since this had first popped up.

"John, will you please just tell me what the hell is going on?"

That finally got him to stop as he pulled a scoped assault rifle from his weapon rack. He looked back at her, his eyes held that same pained look in them.

"I have a friend there and he needs my help."

Lyons thought hard about the question, she did recall a faint memory from when she was younger, her father and the expedition had come across an old prewar city. She also recalled her father being very sad during their time there, and after they left a few other kids came with them, but that was all she could remember.

"Why can't you just wait? I'm sure my father-"

"There's no time Sarah. Whoever these guys are, they aren't playing around. Besides the Brotherhood doesn't have the resources to wage another war. Especially one this far away."

He slung the rifle over his shoulder as he grabbed a 10mm and strapped it to his hip.

"Listen, Sarah. I'm sorry. Just….wait for me here. I'll be back soon."

Sarah balled her hands into fists as she gave him a hard stare. She had a wrenching feeling in her gut just thinking of him having to fight off droves of heavily armored enemies alone. She wasn't completely sure why she felt so strongly about this, but there was absolutely no way he was leaving without her.

"It'll be a cold day in hell if you think I'm letting you go out alone. You're a hero to the people here. If you die, the whole wasteland will fall apart."

"Sarah-"

"Drop the fucking hero act John. I'm coming with you and I don't care what you have to say about it. You're part of the Brotherhood, and we never let a fellow brother go alone."

Sarah wasn't sure where that last part came from, but it felt appropriate for the situation. She had seen him grow from a ragged waster, to a man who had almost single handily brought order to the entire wasteland. Maybe because she knew what John's death would mean for not just the Brotherhood, but the Capital as a whole. Not to mention he had a saved her life more than once; it was time she returned the favor.

John only smiled at her response.

"Fine. If you're coming with me, I'd suggest sticking to projectile weapons. Energy cells are a lot harder to find there, and you do not want to run out of ammo out there."

He tossed her an odd looking combat shotgun. As Sarah examined the butt of the gun, someone had crudely scratched _Property of_ _Smiling Jack_ into the stock _._ She brought her attention back to John.

"Use this, if they have power armor, you'll need this to punch through it. Two close range blasts should do it."

Lyons put the strap around her shoulder as she looked at the collection of ammo the wanderer had been stashing.

"So, what kind of armor do you have? I'm guessing the T-45 is off the table?"

"Exactly, we need protection, but also maneuverability. Fortunately I came up with a solution. Just a moment."

John disappeared outside the room and came back carrying a set of pitch black combat armor. This armor looked different, however, there was armor plating that covered the neck and all the way down to the elbows. It made a loud clang sound as John dropped it on the floor. Sarah attempted to pick it back up, but was surprised at the weight of it. She looked up at John.

"What is this thing made of?"

John smirked.

"Enclave plating. It was a pain in the ass, but I managed to get the durability of power armor and the maneuverability of combat armor into one package. I call it Mark II Combat Armor."

Sarah lifted it up and began to don the new armor.

"That's the best name you could come up with?"

She smiled slightly at the annoyed look John had given her at her comment. There ways something about the face expressions he showed that she found so amusing. She undid the straps on the armor and pulled it over her shoulders, before locking it in place.

"It's a little heavier than the typical suit, but far lighter than power armor."

"Well that was what I was going for. You can wear it over the recon armor, it might feel a little strange at first, but if it's as bad as it sounds. We are going to need that extra protection."

Sarah loaded the drum magazine for the shotgun. It seemed like forever since she last used small arms weaponry, but she had missed the recoil that laser weapons lacked. It brought back memories of a time when she was an initiate; when all the high tech equipment was reserved for paladins. She looked up at the young man before her, who was busy stocking up on ammo and grenades.

"So, where are we going now?"

John snatched up a viscous looking knife and strapped it to his thigh before turning back to her.

"To the Pitt. We can rest on the way there, so grab a Nuka-Cola, the caffeine should keep you alert until we get there. Get your gear together and we'll head out and don't worry about Donovan will be fine here. The sooner we get there the better."

Sarah sighed as she made her way past John, and towards the locker which held her recon armor.

"Well, I guess this technically counts as a vacation."

* * *

The following day, the entire Citadel was in an uproar upon hearing the news Gallows and Dusk brought. Rothchild was with a few other scribes, using the geological map of the Capital trying to find a possible explanation. He was now getting a headache from the chatter of half a dozen other scribes talking over one another.

"…..but its not within the proper distance even if-"

"Those old satellite relays might still configured to missile solos maybe- "

"Don't jump to conclusions we don't even have a reading of-"

"Maybe they triggered a failsafe within the base? Mutants maybe-"

"Don't be daft everyone knows-"

"Enough! I can't even hear myself think over the lot of you!"

Reginald rubbed his head in frustration, hoping to smooth his headache along with the fears of the other scribes. He gripped the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh. At once all twelve pairs of eyes were upon him, most of them were from the Order of the Sword, scribes that specialized in weapon research and development and among them his assistant Janet Vallincourt. She always stood out amongst the other scribes, mostly due to red colored hair and her fierce focus on work above everything else. Had Rothchild been a younger man, he no doubt would have attempted to woo her, but those days were long past. He suppressed a slight smile at that thought, as he cleared his throat.

"Alright, now this is what we will do. Scribe Peabody, you will go with a squad of knights to survey the site collect samples and draw up a conclusion on what happened. Vallincourt you will also go with him, your job will be to excavate the ruins and see if anyone or anything survived or provide a benefit to us."

He paused and waited for a barrage of questions to begin assaulting him, and was pleasantly surprised when none came. Owyn had allowed him to take direct control over the scribes and had unofficially split control of the Brotherhood between the two of them. Given the relationship between the two top leaders of the Brotherhood, no one questioned it, which Reginald was very thankful for. To his annoyance however, he found that the small congregation of scribes was still standing before him.

"Well, what are we waiting for, the rest of you back to your stations."

As they left to return to the tasks at hand, Rothchild approached the large map and stared long and marked at the crossed of marker that was once the Enclave base. His thoughts lingered on a fact that maybe they had missed one of the bases, what if they had just one more site they didn't know about? He dismissed that thought quickly, the last Vertibird reports were nearly 4 months old. Though he had no love for Casdin and the rest of the Outcasts, Owyn had taken the news quite hard. Even after all this time, he still wanted the two groups to reconcile. The head scribe rubbed his chin in deep thought. The Wanderer had been giving both he and Elder Lyons reports of raiders armed with energy weapons, which the young knight had suspected the Outcast's had been providing. The pair had dismissed it as them using captured Enclave equipment. Now the Outcasts had been taken out shortly after the raiders were eliminated, a strange circumstance to be sure. _Something is not right here._

* * *

Feeling the strength of his shackles, Ashur surveyed the room that was now serving as his cell. The only source of light was from a small fire that burned beyond the steel walls he had been confined to. Now that he was finally alone, his thoughts wondered to that of his family. _I hope Sandra and Maria made it to the safe house in time._ Right before uptown had been put under siege, the former paladin had his wife and child be relocated to a hidden safe house by the train yard outside the city. He still wasn't sure who these invaders were, as their emblem had the markings of the Brotherhood, but the armor was a kind he had never seen before. Also, they had super mutants and ghouls making up there ranks, no faction of the Brotherhood would even remotely think of such a thing.

He had to forget about all of that right now and focus on an escape plan, feeling the strength of the steel that restrained him, he needed a tool to cut through his bonds. Another issue was he had no clue of knowing exactly where he was, or how many guards were right outside his door. This General Tyson had been smart enough to keep him blind until he was placed in a cell. The only thing he knew that with the lack of heat and noise he was somewhere outside the steel mill, but not in the steelyard. He hoped that the Wanderer had received his message, as in his current state, the Lord of the Pitt had no armor or weapons stashed away. Never in his life had he thought of an outside force being able to eliminate his entire fighting force and survive the troggs that surrounded the rest of the city. His eyes darted up to the entrance of his cell as a rather large man with metal armor on entered, a small Brotherhood emblem painted on his chest. The fire behind him cast a long shadow, as Ashur could hardly make out his facial features. One thing was clear though, whoever this man was he was one ugly son of a bitch.

"Boss said it's time for your beatings. Last chance old man."

Ashur responded by spitting in man's face. The newcomer was not amused by this act in the slightest, as a sickening grin spread across his face.

"I'm going to enjoy this far too much."

* * *

Amata looked around nervously at the small council of the Vault. Susie Mack, Butch Deloria, Stanly, and her father had all been called into this meeting. As she looked around, she could feel the tension building within the room. Each one of these individuals represented a key aspect within Vault 101 and she wanted to make sure that this next decision was approved by everyone.  
"I know it's been a difficult journey, but I've thought long and hard about this..."

The overseer paused as she felt the eyes of everyone look upon her. Her eyes wandered towards Butch, who surprisingly gave her a nod of confidence. Seeing that, she let the rest of her sentence come out.

"I think it's time we opened the vault."

* * *

 **Authors Notes: Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter, and hopefully i will have the next one posted soon. Until next time guys, thanks again for reading this. :)  
**


	13. Calm Before the Storm

**Author Notes: Sorry guys. Life hit me hard this week and significantly cut into my writing time. I won't bore you guys with the details, but things are getting busy. I'll stick to updating one a week, twice if I can find the time. Don't worry this fic will defiantly be finished, just don't expect 2-3 chapters every week. I'd just like to thank all of you again for the make up for not releasing this on monday like i planned, Its over 3,000 words. Enjoy.  
**

* * *

It had taken them over a day and a half of traveling, but they had finally reached the train yard. John made his way to the tunnel entrance and waited for Sarah to catch up. He could tell that she was tired from all the traveling, but other than that she seemed fine. The sun was just starting to rise, but it was nearly pitch black inside. Making his way to a shelf off to the side of the tunnel, John picked up the lantern he had left there and lighted it. As the darkness vanished, he began to examine the old handcart he had used the last time he visited the Pitt. It was right where left it, its ancient wheels still stuck on the track. On the last trip he made, Ashur had been nice enough to help rig an electronic motor to the cart, which saved John from having to push the damn thing nearly three hundred miles. Satisfied that the motor was still operation, he set the pack of equipment on cart. Sarah followed soon after, she seemed slightly disoriented and fatigued, but other than that she was fine. John smiled as the look of surprise came across her face.

"Wow….you managed to find one…my father said all of the rail ways were completely destroyed when the bombs fell…."

He chuckled at that as he jumped onto the corroded metal plates of the prewar device. It made a dull thud that echoed past the light of the lantern.

"Well, it's not really a train, and he is correct this is an old shipping rail line. Somehow it survived the last two hundred years, but it's in pretty rough shape."

"I can't believe it's still functional."

John helped the sentinel up, as he then hooked the lantern to a post on the back of the cart. Sarah looked like a child as her once tired and droopy eyes seemed to be come alive. As she examined every square inch of the prewar machine. He couldn't really blame her, she had grown up hearing about all of the prewar technology that no longer worked. He only smiled at her amazement. She turned back to him, an excited look on her face.

"So how does it work?"

The Wanderer chuckled in amusement.

"Well, it had to be hand powered at first, but fortunately its electric now. Should take us about half a day to reach it. Take a seat and make yourself comfortable Sarah, this is going to be take a while."

She eagerly sat down as she took of the reinforced combat vest and set it aside. John switched the motor on, as the cart screeched as rusty metal grinded on worn tracks. As slowly, but steadily the prewar transport began its journey into the darkness before them.

* * *

Edward Burke never liked working for the organizations of the wastes, they all seemed to have the same structure; one shortsighted individual who oversaw everything, at least the Enclave had vision. What he disliked even further was putting up with insufferable wasters, such as one Allistair Tenpenny. For nearly two years now he had been under orders to manipulate Tenpenny into causing the destabilization in the wastes, which in turn would make the citizens of the Capital more willing to accept Enclave help. However, somebody disarmed the warhead in Megaton and prevented the reclamation of Doctor Zimmer's android, those plans had been scrapped. He took a moment to check the contents of his suitcase, making sure the explosives were correctly wired before continuing his journey to the Tenpenny's Tower. Satisfied with their current state, he continued on. The situation had grown even worse once he lost contact with Colonial Autumn, and had been planning out how to fake his death to escape the contract he had with Tenpenny.

Fortunately, President Eden had contacted him nearly five months ago, and brought the Enclaves top agent up to speed. He had pulled many strings to evaluate the Wanderer, as that what Eden had ordered him to do. Supplying raiders with energy weapons, buying out entire squads of Talon Company to face him, and at one point planned to influence super mutants into thinking he had more of the FEV virus on hand. Personally had he not used the last of HELIOS One's power to eliminate the Outcast's, he would of loved to test it on the Wanderer. He took great joy in knowing that it was the Outcast's own technological obsession that had killed them, as the single piece of equipment he had given them had in fact been a targeting beacon. He smiled at the thought of Casdin being vaporized as his own greed resulted in his death. That smile quickly vanished as he entered through the gate of the establishment, only to encounter the head guard of Tenpenny Tower, Security Chief Horace Gustavo.

"Whats with the case Burke?"

There was almost a toxic tone to his words, and Burke was unsure if this was supposed to be an act to intimidate him or merely a question; either way he found it annoying. There were a few individuals milling about the small courtyard of the tower, none of them paid the pair any attention. Over the years of working for Allistair, Gustavo had gradually got more hostile and jealous of how fast Burke had earned Tenpenny's trust. Burke could only suppose it was due to nature of Gustavo's long time of service in contrast to the relatively short service Burke had provided. Through his sunglasses Burke only glared at the armored man.

"Is there a problem?"

"Problem? No, unless you want one. What's with the case"

Gustavo straightened his shoulders, once again he was trying to show the he was top dog in this compound. Burke only chuckled and stepped by him.

"I don't have time for your childish antics Horace. These are papers that are for Mr. Tenpenny only. Now if you'll excuse me…."

The security chief backed down at that, which only caused a small smirk to form on Burke's face. Gustavo posed no threat to him, nor did he have any of Burke's respect, the man was merely an annoyance. The security chief began to move to shut the gate, providing Burke with the opening to snatch his key to Tenpenny's room. As he made his way inside the luxurious building he ignored the greetings of the residents, something he had grown quite accustomed to. Taking the elevator up to Allistair's room, he was allowed entry by the guards posted outside the room. Opening the door, he shut in behind him and made his way to the balcony. Sitting in a dining room chair holding his sniper rifle sat the elderly Allistair Tenpenny. The old man looked over him as a weak smile spread across his old leathery face.

"Ah Burke, your just in time. I was just starting my safari if you would like to join."

Burke nodded and took a seat beside him, watching the old man aim the rifle at something in the distance. He fired a shot and swore as he apparently missed.

"Ah damn wind."

Tenpenny put the rifle down and turned to face the Enclave agent.

"So Burke, what was it you wanted to discuss? You said it was a business opportunity correct?"

Burke adjusted his glasses and smoothed the wrinkles on his suit. He glanced down into his coat to ensure his handgun was still there and put his case in his lap, before answering Tenpenny.

"Yes sir, I just need the funds to make the arrangements."

The old man's eyebrows went up at that.

"Funds you say? Well, how much exactly and who is it with?"

"Around seven thousand caps. I believe we can negotiate the price lower though. I plan on buying Talon Company and charging protection money from the settlements."

There was look disgust coming from Allistair.

"Seven thousand? Are you mad? The Brotherhood and that Wanderer lad are protecting all the settlements. How do you plan on getting around them?"

Burke smirked.

"I have made the appropriate arrangements. According to my sources the Wanderer is out of town for the time being, and the Brotherhood has their hands full with the water caravan and scavenging what's left of that little base. We preform hit and run tactics, terrify the inhabitants. The Brotherhood will start to defend the settlements, then we attack the water caravans and sell the water back to them for double the cost. The Brotherhood will be split between defending the water caravans and the settlements, and the Wanderer will be jumping from town to town trying to track us. We will suffer losses, but the profit we make will dwarf them. That I can ensure you."

Hearing that Allistair's expression relaxed, as a genuine smile played across his face.

"Yes, yes excellent! We can show those steel plated bastards how inferior their intellect is to our own. And they will have no connection to us, as they won't know we own them if you buy them off. Brilliant Burke, I can picture it now. Maybe in time that little eyesore will finally vanish."

He chuckled to himself at that, it made Burke almost sick with how narrow minded Tenpenny had become.

"So, I'm assuming my proposal is approved?"

Allistair was exuberant from his plan as he took aim with his rifle once again.

"Oh yes, most defiantly. Go now Burke, you know the combination make the arrangements and return. You'll forever have my favor."

Burke stood up and began to draw his silenced .22 pistol.

"There was one more matter I forgot to mention. Your retirement."

Allistair was in the process of putting his gun down before Burke planted a bullet firmly into his forehead. His body slumped forward as his gun clanked to the ground, as blood trickle ut from his head wound. Pausing to ensure that no one heard the muffled gunshot Burke placed his gun on the chair and put Gustavo's key in Allistair's dead hand. He positioned the corpse back into the chair and used the rifle to keep him propped up. Taking Tenpenny's handkerchief and wiped the blood off and used a lite cigarette to cauterize the wound. He got his composure back, as he had enjoyed doing that far too much, this next part would require both guile and quickness. He made his way out the door and closed it behind him. He turned to the guard as he put on his bored expression.

"Mr. Tenpenny wants you to retrieve Gustavo for him, it involves his employment contract. He said you have two minutes before he decides to kill you."

The man paled at that and ran towards the elevator. Burke only smirked as the guard disappeared. He made it onto the same elevator as the panicked man and ignored his worried drivel. As they came to the ground floor, Burke broke away from the frantic Tenpenny employee as he made it to the basement. He collected the caps and set his suitcase down. One by one, he took the satchel charges and placed them on the support beams on the building. Grabbing a 10mm pistol he used the basement key he had stolen from Gustavo months ago to make his escape through the metro tunnel. _Just one last arrangement to make._ He thought as he left the tower behind.

* * *

Sarah had just woken up after resting for the last six hours, and was surprised to see that John was still wide awake; his eyes focused on the darkness before them. It was slightly eerie on the cart, as the lantern only provided so much light, barely enough for them to see one another.

"Hey John?"

Hearing Sarah snapped him out of his daze as he looked towards her.

"Hey, sleep well?"

She nodded. She still had a few questions about this place, but since they were rushing she never got the chance to ask.

"I wanted to ask about the Pitt…. You never really said exactly how you found this place. I just want to know what I'm heading into."

His expression changed from bored to serious almost instantly. He took a seat beside Sarah as their transport continued on its voyage.

"A slave from the Pitt found me in the wasteland, he had set up a radio signal that lured me to him. Once I met him, he begged me to go with him and overthrow the ruler, who had formed a raider gang and was using slaves to operate a working steel mill within the city. I went in posing as a slave."

He paused at that before continuing.

"There were somethings I did there that I'm not proud of, and I'll leave it at that. In the end I found that the supposed tyrant was trying to restore the city, but to do that he needed the slaves to keep the city running….."

John closed his eyes for a moment, before opening them. Sarah found a fierce determination behind those emerald orbs, even though small amount of light that revealed his face.

"The thing is, I left him in power because I believed in the future he had told me about, and I'm not letting another group of thugs in power armor destroy that."

Sarah looked at him curiously.

"What happened to the slave that asked for your help then? I'm guessing he wasn't happy."

The younger man seemed to shrink a little with that comment, as his gaze traveled to the bottom of the rail cart.

"I killed him, he just…wouldn't back down."

Sarah put a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. John slowly looked over towards her; the light from the lantern barely enough to make out the features of one another.

"I can't say I regret that decision, but time from time I wonder if I did the right thing. I guess we'll see once we get there."

Sarah frowned. Last thing they needed before walking into hell was having him doubt himself. He seemed startled by the sudden contact, as was Sarah for a moment before she put it aside.

"John, you always do the right thing. You shouldn't doubt yourself."

He sighed and looked towards pitch blankness ahead of them.

"I wish that were true. That's part of the reason I want to go back….I want to justify that kill. I need to know I didn't mess up."

Sarah only nodded. She was still worried about what they would face there, if it was as bad as Donovan had said they would have one hell of a fight on their hands. She looked up at the Wanderer.

"You need some rest. You've been up for nearly three days straight."

He only nodded and laid his head against the railing, and in seconds he was passed out. Lyons smiled, before realizing she never took her hand off his shoulder. A faint blush came to her face as his head slid on her shoulder. She wanted to move away, but knew that any movement would certainly wake him up. She thought about waking him anyways, but seeing how peaceful he seemed, she couldn't bring herself to do it. His breathing tickled the exposed part of her neck, as she felt herself getting a strange feeling in the bottom of her stomach. _Its amazing how cute he is when he's not killing things._ Sarah's eyes widened at that thought. Where had that come from? She shoved it out of her mind, even since he had visited her at Rivet City, she had been getting those thoughts more and frequently. She sighed in frustration. If they were going to make it through this place, she couldn't be distracted. She watched the shadows of the cave move by them. She still had a few hours to think things over, maybe she could come up with a logical reason for this recent developments.

* * *

Davis checked the perimeter of hallway outside the small study room of the _Neptune_. Ever since they had gotten back from retrieving Colonial Autumn, Staples had been insistent on slicing into the computers of the _Neptune_. After having to go through another week of urging him on, he finally gave in. Now she was trying to disable failsafe's on the modern state of the art computers without getting caught or trigger an alert to the shipboard super computer.

"Aran, are you done yet? Someone is going to walk by any second now."

He heard hurt grunt as the sparking of electricity could be heard.

"Shawn relax. The surveillance is on loop for the next half hour. Just….hold on…got it."

He turned around as the raven haired woman was searching through lines of code. She apparently found something and pointed at the dim green screen.

"Right there see that?"

Shawn squinted his eyes and read the small line of code she had pointed out.

'Systems layout 1-130: all operational.'

He didn't really understand that part, he looked at his fellow officer confused.

"What does that mean exactly?"

Aran only grinned.

"There are one hundred and fifty systems aboard this ship. Only ten of which are supposed to be a hidden for the ZAX computer. Why is the system ignoring the other ten? That doesn't make any sense."

He shrugged and glanced back towards the door.

"Glitch in the system?"

Staples shook her head.

"Impossible, the computer would of corrected it. I need a full read out of the schematics to which systems are missing, I don't have them all memorized. Shouldn't be that hard really just…Oh shit…."

Shawn looked at the screen to see those dreaded words.

'An error has occurred. The administrator has been notified. Please stand by.'

Without another word, the two Enclave officers shut the terminal off and ran like hell.

* * *

 **Authors Notes: Next week shit hits the fan. Stay tuned until then. Please leave a review and let me know what you like or things I can improve upon. Thanks for reading. :)**


	14. The Start of Something Horrible

**Author Notes: Alright here it is. Chapter 14.**

* * *

Eden was satisfied with the progress of the newest FEV reports. The research drones had seemingly been able to find a select trait that allowed for a successful mutation. This trait could also be incorporated to additional subjects through injects. Unfortunately the list of acceptable candidates was rather limited due to the small size of his forces. Suddenly his security circuits flared up as a breach in his systems was detected. The Enclave president brought up the camera feed that was linked to the terminal in question. He became suspicious when not a single individual could be seen on the screen. Eden diverted his processors to analyzing the footage throughout the ship as he began to assess the severity of the breach. Steaming through bits of code and cross checking key strokes, the Z.A.X. computer was annoyed as he found someone had tried to get ahold of the _Neptune_ 's schematics.

He brought up the list of crew members that had the expertise and training to perform such a maneuver and activated the facial recognition software for the cameras to hone in on these particular individuals. Seeing as how that matter was dealt with, it would still take his sub-processors at least the rest of the day to analyze all of the footage and run the recognition software frame by frame, he went back to making his list of candidates for the next phase of FEV testing, just making a side note to include the list of possible data breaches to the top. After all, now that he was in command of the ship they had no use for such occupations anymore. _All in due time._ He reasoned. That plan was still far off, the planning of kidnappings and cover stories would take months to put together, and just thinking about it caused an electrical surge in his circuitry. He would need to create guises for the rest of the council, seeing as how occupied he would now be. He knew sooner or later his men would catch on to the fact not a single congressman had been seen on board the ship, and such a revelation could risk shattering the last formation of his forces.

Until he could replicate the effects of the mesmetron's rays and tone down the chance of death, he would just have to trust in the blind loyalty of his soldiers. A sub thought came to his attention as he began to fish around in the databanks of the West-Tek vault projects. His motherboard gave off a spark as he came across the entry for a Vault 0. Before the bombs had dropped over two hundred years ago, the brightest minds in the Commonwealth had been put into cryo stasis to preserve them until civilization was ready to be revived. If he could enlist he prewar genius's to his cause, the research departments would sky rocket in productivity. The only issue was the vault laid on the mountain range of the Cheyenne; almost 1,500 away. The practicality of it was nonexistent. Sending a squad to investigate would take weeks; time Eden simply did not have. No, he would wait, maybe in time such an opportunity would present itself. He closed that file and opened up the one labeled for Vault 101. _Now Wanderer, let's see what secrets you have to hide._

* * *

The rattling of the small train cart was enough to wake John from his sleep. First thing he noticed as he opened his eyes though was a now sleeping Sarah Lyons had her head laying against his. He froze for a minute as he contemplated the situation. With just the two of them sitting here in the darkness, with the warmth of her body against his felt almost…..reminiscent of something, he couldn't remember what. He checked the time on his Pipboy, careful not to wake his companion. He had been asleep for the past five hours, which meant they would be arriving at the Pitt soon. He looked back up at the sleeping Lyons and frowned. _I should not of let her come._ He had no issues with Sarah's combat abilities, but whenever she was around he found himself distracted. The last fire fight they had, he had spent about a quarter of the time fighting trying to keep her safe. He hadn't told her that he also had to pop Jet just to get her to the Citadel in time, and was extremely thankful that no adduction had taken hold of him. It was a pleasant distraction, but a distraction none-the-less. He reached up and tapped her on the shoulder, earning himself a reply of grunts and mumbling. John could only smile as her eyes slowly flickered opened.

"About time you woke up." He said teasingly.

Lyons rubbed her eyes, as she looked up at him still half asleep. It took her a few seconds for the situation to actually click with her. Even with shadows obscuring half her face, he could see that her cheeks went crimson as she shot straight up. Her eyes narrowed at him, as she gave him her infamous 'look', which failed miserably given how cute John found her in this current state.

"You say a word about this to anyone, and the whole wasteland will know about your bobble head collection."

He only laughed and got up as he walked towards the pack of supplies.

"Understood Sentinel, don't even worry about it."

It was slightly annoying to try and find the food containers in the dark, but after a while John managed to grab a package of 'Fancy Lads Snack Cakes'. He turned around and offered it to Sarah, who was still glaring at him.

"Here, we're almost there. It would be a good idea to eat up before hand, we'll have our hands full once we get there."

She took the packaged food from him and began eating.

"What's your plan exactly?" She asked in between bites.

John took a moment to inspect the condition of his weapons. His trench knife and Infiltrator were both in working order. He held the 10mm pistol as he traced the rough, faded engraving of 'Amata' on the pistol grip. This was the same gun she had given him when he started this hell of a journey over a year ago. He lost track of how many people he had taken out of the world with this; it was definitely somewhere in the hundreds through. When he first started, this gun was the only thing that kept him going at times. He found it ironic almost, her name at one time had reminded him of some of his happiest moments, now it only brought up thoughts of betrayal and hurt. He could almost hear her from what seemed like decade ago; her calming eyes stared at him as those sickening words left her mouth. _I promise, no matter what happens, I will always love you._ His eyes focused on the gun, as his thoughts began to eat at him. _I didn't break my promise to you…so why did you break your promise to me?_

"John, are you alright?"

Hearing Sarah's voice snapped him back to reality, as he willed the depressing thoughts away. He holstered the weapon and looked up at his blonde companion, who wore a look of confusion on her face.

"I'm fine. Was there something you needed?"

For a moment it looked like she was going to inquire about it, but shook her head.

"I was asking what your plan is exactly once we show up. I mean, I don't think showing up and shooting at everything will be very effective."

He shook his head and took a seat on the railing.

"We get there and assess the situation." He paused for a moment and scratched his chin. "Depending how bad it is, it'll determine just how much fire power we'll use."

He nodded over to the large pack that held most of their equipment.

Sarah glanced at the pack and back at him. A look of curiosity etched on her face.

"Just how many explosives did you pack in there?"

John smirked. "Enough, let's just leave it at that."

* * *

The sun beat down mercilessly on the excavation team of Fort Independence. Janet Vallencourt wiped away the beads of sweat that trailed down her forehead. This was the second day of the recovery effort, and they still did not have a proper base camp set up, and given the amount of debris they had to clear it would take close to three weeks. She glanced down at the worn out blue prints of Fort Independence. The only possible place that could have survived destruction of this magnitude would be located in the bottom of the facility, and not knowing how damaged the bottom structure was ruled out any usual clearing methods. She returned her gaze to the small congregation of armored knights, which were in the process smashing away at the pile of concreate before them. She sighed and looked over at Scribe Peabody, who was currently gathering every bit of wreckage he could carry from the site. _Why did Rothchild even send me here?_ She questioned. She was pulled from her thoughts as Knight Captain Artemis shouted up to her.

"Hey! We got a live one here! Get the medical supplies, she's in bad shape!"

Hearing that, the crimson haired woman grabbed the bag of first aid supplies and ran towards the crew, as they pulled out a dark skinned woman wearing a seemingly liquefied set of power armor. As she got closer, Janet recognized the woman as former paladin Anne Marie Morgan and saw just how horrific her injuries were as she neared. Her blood clung to her body like makeup, a piece of rebar had went through her recon underlay and was now jutting out of her right side, and the entire left side of her face had been melted away. Her armor had literally melted, the only thing that protected her skin was the recon armor underneath it, which kept her in a cocoon of molten steel. The scribe had no clue how this woman was still alive. "Oh dear God…." Someone behind her muttered. Janet snapped out of it, if they could save this woman's life the information she could provide would be essential. They wouldn't be able to treat her injuries here, but Janet knew someplace they could. She began barking out orders.

"Someone take that armor off her. Artemis make a gurney, I don't care how just do it. The rest of you back to work."

She took the cap off a stimpack and jammed it into Morgan's exposed neck. It wouldn't treat everything wrong with her, but it would keep the bleeding under control. An initiate began tearing off slabs of metal that had formed around her as Artemis returned. Having used up two solid pieces of rebar and a bed sheet as an improvised stretcher together the scribe and knight put slid the comatose outcast onto the makeshift device. Vallincourt turned to the Lyon's Pride member.

"We need to get her to Megaton, grab someone and hightail it to the clinic."

He only nodded and took a nearby knight with him. The pair snatched the improvised gurney up and took off toward Megaton.

"Whatever hit here was not an explosive." Peabody commented from behind the scribe.

Vallincourt turned back to him and cast a look of suspicion on him.

"What makes you say that?" She asked.

"Power armor doesn't melt like that, the materials that are used in it is reinforced steel. The only thing that can pull off that is a plasma or laser based technology, as the temperatures needed to melt steel are over three thousand degrees. Unless it was a massive explosion, which judging by the scattering of the debris it is not. It's more condensed to this general area"

"Then why is the base still here then? If something that hot hit here it should have vaporized the entire fort."

Peabody shook his head, as he turned back to the rubble in question.

"I think the base was already damaged by a pervious attack. Some of the rock fragments had minor traces of radioactivity on them. Someone attacked here earlier, and then a massive energy weapon finished them off." Peabody pointed towards the remains of the fort.

"Look at the building, it looks more like a structural collapse from out here."

Vallincourt tilted her head and saw what he was referring to. Most of the rubble was in one mound, with some large sections of wall laying off to the side of it. She nodded in agreement with that theory.

"That still doesn't explain why it hasn't been reduced to dust." She pressed on.

"It's also possible that given the nature of how thick the material of these bases are, it might have resisted the initial blast. But caused the melting of exposed metal. Here look at this."

Janet was handed a block of concreate by the older man, she looked at him strangely. Before glancing at the piece of rock.

"What exactly am I looking for?"

Peabody smiled. "Just feel it, you'll notice it then."

As her hands felt the roughness of the rock, she came across a smooth surface on the bottom. She turned it over and found that the surface in question was looked almost brand new. There was no evidence of wear or usage, almost like it had just been made. She looked up at Peabody in amazement.

"Something completely burned away a layer of this rock."

The male scribe only nodded.

"Precisely."

"So, do you know what could have done this then?"

Peabody's smile dropped.

"Far as I can tell…this tech never existed in any of our logs. Even including the ones we brought from the West. Now maybe the archives for the Citadel suffered some data loss before we got to them, but the short answer is no. I have no clue what could have done this. It could only have been a nuclear weapon or a massive energy weapon. But the evidence contradicts itself."

"How so?"

The weapons expert sighed.

"The radiation here is limited. Not every piece of rubble has it. Also a nuke would have left even less remaining, unless it was a mini nuke launcher. Then the energy weapon theory has so many problems with it, I don't even know where to start. Firstly, no such device even exists as far as our records show. Second, a repeated assault with a mini nuke could have leveled the place given time, why would you deploy something like that? On top of all that, if this thing does exist, who has the resources to waste on something like that? Makes no damn sense."

Vallincourt took one more glance at the rock before turning back to what remained of Fort Independence. _What in the fuck happened here?_

* * *

Standing on the front of the train car, Sarah could feel the warm air blowing on her face as a light at the end of the tunnel could be seen. The sudden exposure to light forced her to shield her eyes to prevent from being blinded. She held her shotgun close to her as John stepped up beside her.

"Need some goggles?"

He offered a pair to her, which she declined.

"I'm a big girl John, I can handle a little sunlight."

He only chuckled at that before looking towards the light before them.

After a moment of silence he spoke.

"Once we arrive, keep on alert. This place is on par with downtown D.C."

Lyons eyes went up at that.

"Really now?"

John nodded. "Yea, at least in the city. I know we'll be alright though. Your skill set isn't that far behind mine, the two of us can will make it."

As they got closer the cart suddenly thudded violently as Sarah nearly went over the railing. The strong grip of John's hand on her shoulder stopped her though. Metal squealed as sparks began to shoot up around them. Sarah looked at the Wanderer in concern, but he only laughed over the noise. The cart shook again and again, as the sound of steel grinding on steel became deafening. Lyons gripped the rusted railing tightly as the cart began to slow significantly. She turned her attention to John and found that he had taken position on the back of the cart. She wanted to shout out to him, but knew there was no way for him to hear her. He did something to the small motor of the cart as they slowly slide out the entrance of the tunnel, where the cart came to a screeching halt. After a few moments of catching her breath Sarah let go of the railing. She had held it so tightly, her shotgun had pressed into her ribs, causing a slight sore there. Looking around, she found that they were in an old train yard. A plume of smoke was seen in the distance, as giant smokestacks pumped it into the glowing orange sky. The air around here looked almost…toxic, it made her uncomfortable. She turned back to John. Her heart was pounding in her ears, or at least she thought it was, it was hard to tell since her ears were ringing.

"Thanks for the warning." She said sarcastically. She realized that she could barely hear herself right now, not a good way to start a mission like this. John only smiled and pointed at his ears, which earned him the middle finger treatment from Sarah. She looked back at the route before her, derailed train locomotives laid discarded from an age long past and trash bin fires gave off the only sources of light. John stepped out in front of her and shouldered his rifle. He hefted the large bag over his shoulder and looked back at her. She smiled and readied her shotgun as she took her place alongside him.

* * *

 **Author Notes: Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Sorry if the action is a little lack luster, but it'll pick up. Please leave a review and tell me what you did or didn't like. See you guys next week. :)**


	15. Welcome To The Pitt

**Authors Notes: Hi all. Just want to take a moment and say that my heart goes out to anyone that lives or has family in France, and that those wounded make a full recovery.  
**

* * *

John's face contorted, he forgot just how much he hated this place. The smoke and the sickly look of the city off in the distance always bugged him. They were about to head through the gate of the train yard, when something at the back of John's mind demanded he turn around. He looked behind him and saw Sarah bringing up the rear a few feet behind. He went to turn back around, when his skilled eyes caught a shadow move off in the distance behind a desolate locomotive. In an instant John had his rifle raised and aimed at the point he saw movement. This started Sarah, who turned back around with her weapon at the ready, as she slowly backed up to him.

"What did you see?" She whispered.

John's eyes narrowed, studying the spot.

"We aren't alone. Watch the gate." He replied.

The sentinel nodded and moved behind him as John stepped forward.

"Who's ever out there, come out and I promise not to kill you."

John heard someone swear off in the distance, then a ragged looked man stepped out from behind his hiding spot, with his hands raised. He had a disgustingly dirty blonde Mohawk and a goatee, and what John hoped was dirt caked, on his face and clothing. As the man got near, John recognized the man as the ingot collector for Ashur; Ernest. The Wanderer lowered his rifle.

"Ernest? Is that you?"

Ernest stopped ten feet away from him and appeared to study him before it clicked. A half toothed smile spread across his face.

"Is that you kid? You looked like one of those Brotherhood fucks with that stupid shit you're wearing. About time you got your sorry ass over here!"

John breathed a sigh of relief and motioned Sarah to him as the pair approached the raider.

"Ernest, what happened here? Midea said someone took over the city?"

Ernest's face dropped a little hearing that question.

"So you got the message huh?" He looked down and shook his head. "You better come inside, Sandra and Marie have been holed up in the station."

* * *

"Attention, you commie piece of shit. You are illegally modifying equipment issued by the U.S. Armed forces. An administrator has been contacted and this suit will now self-destruct-."

Rothchild switched off the power unit as it had become a routine, and slammed his fist into his work bench.

"Ah, confounded contraption!"

He knew that small outburst was unacceptable, but with everything going on in the Brotherhood, even the small things were starting to get to him. Owyn had been on bed rest for the past two days and he was having to effectively run both sides of the Brotherhood. Thankfully, some of the paladins had been helping out by assigning patrol routes, or assisting in gear maintenance. At the end of the day, though, Rothchild was exhausted. His only free time was tinkering with the experimental gear, yet despite his best efforts the damned thing still tried to kill him. He looked through his tool box trying to see if he had something, anything, which would help him accomplish his task. A voice from behind startled him.

"Good day, Scribe Rothchild."

The scribe turned around and found Star Paladin Cross a few feet away from him. He put his hand to his chest and caught his breath.

"Hello there Cross, my apologies, I thought everyone was asleep."

She only smiled at his comment. Years ago, she was critically wounded in a battle. To save her life, Rothchild had to convert her into a cyborg. The surgery succeeded and within a few months she was back out in the field, with her body not having to require sleep or food. But ever since then, she had always been a little…. off. She stood there awkwardly, for a full minute before Rothchild finally asked. "Is there something you need?"

Cross nodded. "Yes, I saw that you were having trouble with that suit of power armor." She gestured towards the scribe's workbench.

"Might I assist you with it?" She asked.

Reginald shrugged. "I don't see why not."

The paladin moved to the table and began tinkering with the circuits on the back of the armor.

Rothchild stepped to the side as he took a seat in a nearby chair. He continued. "I'm afraid this technology might be above your comprehension, my dear. I've been working on this for nearly half a year and haven't been able to do anything except-"

"User access granted. Now entering standby mode."

Reginald nearly fell out of his chair hearing that, as Cross looked back at him. Rothchild was baffled.

"H-how did you do that?"

The cyborg woman smiled.

"Simple, I just took the defense protocols out."

She held up the now ruined wires in her armored hand.

"I hope you did not need these."

Rothchild sighed and made his way back to his work table.

"No, that is something I can do without…..I hope."

He pulled out a few wires from the now deactivated armor, and attached them to the diagnostic port of his terminal. Within moments, status reports on the suit's systems appeared on the screen. He eagerly began to read every line of text, as Cross merely remained staring at him. Feeling her eyes upon him once again, the scribe looked over to her.

"Yes, Cross?"

She nodded. "Forgive me, but I am curious as to what you plan on doing with the armor. If I do recall, you had a conversation with the elder about the handling of such equipment."

Rothchild signed. "Yes, you're correct. Given Elder Lyon's condition he needs medical treatment almost twenty four seven now, so he asked me to modify the suit to act as a life support device."

Cross nodded again. "I understand. It is as Elder Theis once said, 'A brother well equipped is a brother keeping to his duty.' If you will not be needing me now, I will return to my patrol. Good day, Rothchild."

With that, the star paladin left him to his work. Rothchild scratched his head, making a mental note to check the enhancements he made on her at some point.

* * *

Sarah shifted uncomfortably inside the remodeled train station. Most of the building had collapsed, but someone had put in a set of mattresses a fridge and a reloading bench. The thing that made her uncomfortable, however, was the raider they had met outside. The creep kept staring at her. She ignored him and focused on the woman before her. She had short auburn hair and wore a rather dirty lab coat. The woman's face seemed to light up when she turned around and saw John.

"Oh, thank god you showed up!"

She seemingly latched onto John, which annoyed Sarah significantly. John quickly pulled the woman back. The woman's eyes, then shot towards Sarah. "Who is this?"

"Sandra, this is Sarah Lyons, a friend of mine. She came with me to help."

Ernest's voice could be heard from behind. "Ha, that's not all she is!"

Sarah's face tightened in irritation before she relaxed. _Come on Lyons, you're better than this._

Sandra appeared worried.

"Then… won't she be at risk?"

John shook his head.

"No, she'll be fine. Trust me. Now I need to know about Ashur, where is he?"

 _Ashur?_ That name seemed familiar to Sarah, like she had heard that before. She couldn't place where though.

Sandra seemed to sag with that question.

"Take a seat…. I'll tell you everything."

She led them over to a re-purposed waiting room, and sat on the benches. Sarah saw the Ernest creep take another glance at her from across the room before disappearing.

"When uptown fell, Ashur had Ernest and a squad of his men rushed me and our child out of the city. The gunfire, though attracted the troggs to our escape route….." She paused for a moment, and looked incredibly disturbed for a minute, before continuing.

"The three of us were the only ones who made it…..The lights can only stop so many."

Sarah was a little confused. "I'm sorry, but what are troggs? Are they like super mutants?"

Sandra looked over at John, apparently perplexed.

"A super mutant? What's that?"

Sarah was stunned, and was about to answer Sandra's question when John stopped her.

"The conditions in the Pitt caused its inhabitants to devolve. They become these almost bestial savages, which they call Troggs."

He turned towards Sandra.

"And a super mutant is basically a bigger, tougher, and slightly smarter trogg."

Sandra's face contorted in horror.

"That sounds horrible."

Sarah shrugged. "You get used to them, their stupidity definitely helps though."

"So, where is Ashur?" John said, trying to keep them on topic.

Sandra shook her head.

"Honestly, I don't know. He stayed behind to defend Uptown."

"So you have no clue if he's even alive?"

She only weakly nodded her head. John let out a sigh.

"I'm sorry, I'll do my best to find him. Marie is safe right?"

Sandra pointed over to a corner of the room where a crib laid.

"Yes, Ashur made preparations after what happened with Wernher. We've been holed up here for a while. Fortunately none of those armored men have come by, not sure how long that will last though. This isn't exactly a fortress."

Sarah leaned forward, causing the wood of the bench to creak.

"Why don't you use our cart? You can get yourselves out of here. John and I can handle things here." She looked over at John for support.

Sandra declined. "No, I can't, not without my husband."

Lyons shook her head in disbelief. It was stupid love guided think that got people killed in the wates, what happened to common sense?

"Your putting your child at risk, even if we find your husband he's most likely dead-"

"He is not dead!" Sandra shouted back at her, partially startling Sarah.

"Not my Ashur, he promised….. He never went back on his word…." She mumbled to herself.

John stood and put a hand of comfort on the distraught woman's shoulder. "Sandra, listen. We'll find him, but you need to keep Marie and yourself safe. If anything were to happen to you…"

"I know…." She interrupted. She was quiet for a moment before she spoke. "Fine, we'll go."

* * *

Autumn stirred, his consciousness coming back to him. The last thing he could recall was meeting with Eden, then it all went black. His vision was blurred, he felt like he was submerged beneath water, his lungs full of liquid. He tried swimming, pushing himself up to a surface to avoid drowning. But he never surfaced, he couldn't even move a muscle. He tried to move his mouth, but to his horror was unable even make it open. He was going to die, crushed as his lungs would be crushed and his heartbeat slowly stop. He closed his eyes and waited for the end to come, but not even his eyelids fluttered.  
The feeling in his lungs remained, but never worsened. Was he dead? No, his entire body felt numb, yet throbbed with pain. He was alive, or at least he thought he was. He could hear a high pitched humming sound off in the distance. He tried to walk towards it, but again his body refused to respond. He felt himself floating, but not moving anywhere. How long had he been here? Where even was here? His thoughts seemed to be the only thing he still had control of. _What the hell is going on?_

The humming intensified, as he felt the liquid around him begin to vibrate. Then, electricity jolted through Autumn's body. He could feel the electric impulses sweeping through him, this pain was beyond anything he had ever felt. The current pulsed through him, getting stronger every second. His muscles began to spasm, and his skin felt as if it was being cooked by a heavy incinerator; as the electronic torment seemed to continue on. Yet, he remained unable to move, despite the agony he was now experiencing. After what felt like an eternity, it finally ended. Autumn was amazed he hadn't lost conciseness. He couldn't feel anything now, his entire body was still tingling from his recent electrocution. He still felt his body floating, and took a small comfort that his suffering had ended. Just when he thought he was alone one again, he heard that damned voice once again.

"Ah, Colonel, I am so thrilled to see you survived. Do not worry. You won't die, I still have my uses for you. Rest now, you have a hard road ahead of you, Colnel. Put him out."

Autumn wanted to respond: To give some kind of retort to let the piece of silicon and metal what he would do to him the moment he got free. But he never got the chance. Everything suddenly got heavy, as he felt his body fall, and once again darkness embraced him.

* * *

Sarah had just finished eating when John came to her.

"Please tell me the raider left too."

He chuckled at that.

"Yes, he's gone. I was worried you were going kill him back inside."

Lyons got up and put her rifle strap around her shoulder.

"Oh, I wanted to believe me."

The pair began their trek up towards the gated exit of the train yard. One thing still bugged Sarah though.

"Why didn't you tell them I was with the Brotherhood?"

The Wanderer stopped just ahead of her.

"Well, because I'm not sure how they would react. The last time the Brotherhood came through here they purged the city, then we have thi other group claiming to be Brotherhood. There was a slight chance of them getting the wrong impression if that's how I introduced you."

"Don't they trust you? I mean, they seemed to be happy you showed up."

John shook his head.

"I don't trust them though. Hell, first time I came here, Ernest tried to get me killed. There are very few people worthy of my trust out here Sarah. And your one of the few with that privilege. Now come on, we need to reach the city before night fall."

Lyons was a little surprised about that, but quickly put the thought aside. Looking up at the sky, she saw what John was talking about. The sun was starting to set they had about an hour of light at most. The two continued walking.

"Why can't we stay at the train station?" She asked.

"I had a bad feeling about it. Those feelings have kept me alive this far, don't see why I should stop trusting them now."

As they pushed through the gate, Sarah was shocked by what she was seeing. A large green sign up above a long bridge. The words 'Welcome to Pittsburg' had been painted on there long ago, but someone had crossed out 'sburg' and added a 'the' leaving the sign as 'Welcome to the Pitt'. Destroyed cars littered the road between them and the city. The skeletal remains of skyscrapers from a bygone era still stood decaying in the distance. Had the sky not looked so unsettling, she might have considered it amazing. They never had so many structures preserved like this back in the Captial. As they stepped onto the ruin asphalt at the start of the bridge, she looked back at John.

"So, is this the infamous Pitt?"

He nodded and adjusted the pack on his back.

"Yes, this is it. Now we need to be careful crossing..." He paused and slowly turned around.

"Sarah, did you hear that?"

Lyons focused on her hearing more, and that's when she heard it. It sounded like a low growl, one a ghoul would make. After a few seconds it got louder, then she heard more of them.

"John, what is that?"

See saw his eyes widen, as if hit by some realization.

"Troggs, but they aren't supposed to be this far from the city…."

"Are you sure?"

He turned around and raised his gun.

"We need to move. Right now!"

The moment he had said that, Sarah turned and saw what she thought was a ghoul perched up on the sign of the Pitt. It went to lunge at them, before a spray of blood shot through its neck and it fell to the ground dead. Before she could even respond, John was dragging her towards the pile of destroyed cars. The growling intensified as droves of the freakish things began to crawl up from under the bridge, some even coming down the steel girders. John began firing up at them, but Sarah knew he couldn't kill them all. They run and jumped from one car to another as Sarah began firing at the ones that got too close, it was futile, they were only buying themselves time. There had to be at least seventy of the creatures swarming towards them.

"Get to that truck!"

She heard John shout and looked up ahead. There was an overturned semi that was now resting on the median of the bridge. It might be just high enough to keep out of reach of their attackers. As they neared the car, one of the troggs leaped up at John, nearly knocking him off the car. He responded by driving his elbow through its skull, causing a bloody mess to splutter from the now deceased creature. John jumped onto the truck and pulled himself up, as Sarah was only a few paces behind them. She leap towards the truck, their only hope of survival and felt her heart stop as something grabbed onto her leg. She caught the side just as the hand clamped onto her ankle and started pulling. She almost panicked, but grabbed her laser pistol from her holster and burned the trogg's limb clean off. John yanked her up before the rest of the horde began to circle around their rather pathetic platform, clawing at the rusted steel in an attempt to reach their trapped prey.  
The sounds of the troggs all around them was nearly maddening, but they seemed unable to reach them for the time being. Sarah took a moment to catch her breath.

"Please tell me we have a way out of this."

John stood up and scanned their area, what he was looking for Sarah wasn't sure. "Yes, but your not going to like it."

Sarah sat up and readied her shotgun. Interested in what John had to say. "And why is that?"

He set the pack down and began digging through it. He looked over at her as his eyes hardened.

"Because, only one of us is going to make it into the city."

* * *

 **Authors Notes: Due to RL events, I will not be able to post another chapter by next week. But don't worry, I have no plans on scrapping this story, just need a break to deal with reality. Thank all of you for reading this. Please leave a review, and I will see you guys soon.  
**


	16. Sent Out With a Bang

**Authors Notes: Hey all. I'm back and hope everyone is having a great Thanksgiving. Sorry for the delay, but here's the newest chapter, all 4,000 words just for you guys. Please tell me what you think with a review, any feedback is appreciated. :)**

* * *

"I don't know Roy, got an odd feeling about this one."

Burke swore silently to himself as he watch this ghoul 'Roy' examine his bag of caps. He had hit a snag in his escape from the tower, when he nearly got killed by a feral ghoul in combat armor. The struggle with the once human attracted the attention of three non-ferals, who immediately set about searching him. He was drastically fatigued from the struggle from earlier, and was taken by complete surprise. His eyes honed in on his current captor, who had a 10mm sub-machine gun aimed at him. Another one, who he presumed was a female, eyed his suspiciously as she walked back and forth. The trashcan fires scattered around the abandoned metro were barely enough to illuminate the area they were in. Roy got up and drew his assault rifle. He walked beside the woman ghoul and stared down at Burke.

"What do you think Bessie?" He asked.

Bessie shook her head, apparently in disbelief.

"It's Tenpenny's right hand man, remember?" She exclaimed.

The ghoul holding him at gun point turned tilted his head towards his companions.

"You can't be serious. Is that who this is?"

Roy moved closer to the Enclave agent, Burke could see a rage seemingly building up behind the ghoul. He stopped just a few inches from Burke, who looked away in disgust. How dare this mutant abomination try to look him in the eyes.

"So, your boss send you down here to finish us off? Huh?" Roy shoved the barrel of his gun into Burke's chest.

"I've had just about of you fucking smooth skins trying to get one over on us."

Roy's finger began to pull the trigger; which caused Burke to react. He slapped the muzzle away as a few rounds began to fire from it, impacting into the wall off to his right sending bits of stone everywhere. He slapped the side of the gun, causing it to fly out of Roy's hands, as it clattered away into the shadows of the metro. He face contorted into one of disgust as he put his arm around the ghoul's neck and pulled him against himself. He drew his concealed knife from his hidden sleeve and held it against Roy's neck. The other two ghouls aimed their guns at Burke, but he could see them hesitating. A sly smile spread over his face as he took a few steps away from the ghouls, with Roy still held up against him.

"Now." Burke started. "Let's talk before this gets messy. Is everyone in agreement?" He put a pressed the knife into the ghouls leathery skin. Burke had to hold back from gagging, the combination of smell and touch of a ghoul was something he detested.

"Guns down, let the fucker talk." Roy managed to get out.

After a moment of hesitation, the two ghouls did just that.

Burke keep the hold on Roy. "Now, first of all. No, Tenpenny and I are no longer in business together, which is why I have that bag of caps you tried to steal from me. Second off, you can get into the tower through the basement, since I left it unlocked when I left." He glared down at the ghoul through his shades.

"So what do you say ghoul. Let me walk away with my goods and I won't bother your kind ever again."

"You're telling me you went and ditched Tenpenny, and left the back door open in the process?" Roy questioned him.

"I never liked taking orders." He replied back.

Bessie voiced her protest. "Roy, come on you can't really believe that-"

"Deal." Roy cut her off.

Burke scowled and keep the knife in its place.

"Your friends don't seem to be in agreement."

He heard Roy grumble something as Bessie and the other ghoul seemed to be standing their ground.

"They have a good reason not to." Roy mumbled.

Burke's brow wrinkled in irritation, he was close to just risking death and rid himself of these mutant freaks.

Bessie sighed and put her weapon away. "Come on Michael, Roy's right. We have an opportunity to get out of this Hellhole. "

The other ghoul gave Burke a dirty look, but holstered his weapon. Burke keep Roy close as he side stepped toward his equipment. He released the ghoul and snatched up his pistol and bag of caps.

Roy slowly gathered his rifle and moved beside his companions. "I hope you're not expecting a thank you."

Burke scoffed. "No, not at all." With that he turned his back to the ghoul party as a wicked smile spread across his features. He was going to get a chemical shower once he got back, but it was worth the price. Burke reloaded his pistol and keep moving on, his hand brushing against the detonator in his pocket. Oh yes, he was going to enjoy this.

* * *

Scoping out the hallway, Aran shut the door to Omega teams barracks. Shawn laid on his bunk flipping through a 'Guns and Bullets' magazine.

"So, when can I start worrying?"

She scowled at him. "I told you to stop thinking about it. That loop cycle I put the monitors on will put us in the clear."

He set his magazine down and looked over at her.

"You also said that we would be perfectly fine. For all we know you could have set the A.I. into lock down. Then where would we be?"

Staples smirked. "But I didn't."

Davis grunted and laid back on his bed. "Fine, keep hacking into the system then. I'm sure Whitley will understand when they wheel you off into the lab."

She rolled her eyes and laid down on her bed, which had been placed behind a divider that separated her from the men. She pulled her Plasma Defender out from under the bed and fiddled with the charge settings. Typically, only those on watch were allowed to have weapons on them. The President, however, gave them clearance to keep their side arms with them.

"Aren't you least bit curious about what's going on?" She asked.

"Well sure, but I don't think digging around the ships database and fighting with the A.I. is a good move."

Aran sighed and loaded a fusion cell into her gun.

"What do you think of the new guy?"

She heard the rustling of magazine pages before Davis replied.

"I'm not sure to be honest, haven't even seen his face, he never even comes in here. Do you really think that he survived against the Wanderer? I mean seriously, how did he do that?"

Aran shrugged and dialed down the power settings. "Not sure, Its possible though. I mean come on Shawn, we survived Project Purity. Only reason we lived was because you got lost trying to find Adams Airforce Base."

She smiled slightly as she heard him clear his throat.

"Okay, well next time you try finding an underground metro while avoiding super mutants and Brotherhood patrols. I mean, if we had any more than the two of us we wouldn't of made it."

"Then you should learn how to read the metro signs next time. There's a reason they have names." She shot back.

She loved to give him a hard time, ever since they had met at Navarro they had made a connection. She had lost track of how many times they had evaded death.

"Well excuse me, princess."

Aran scowled and pulled the divider back to find Davis wearing that stupid grin of his. He knew how much she hated being called that. She narrowed her eyes at him and leveled her weapon at his groin.

"I'm tempted to shoot you right now. I dialed back the power on it, you'd only get a mild burn."

Davis put his hands up in defense, seeing where she had aimed her gun.

"Whoa, hang on there Aran. We haven't even had a proper first date."

"Very cute Shawn." She huffed and shot him in the leg. The glob of plasma scorched his inner thigh as he yelped out in pain, his hands clamping onto his newest wound.

"Son of a-! What the hell!"

She smiled and went back to playing with her gun.

"Oh sorry, looks like it misfired." She said, putting on a fake concern to her voice. "Fortunately the squad's medic is right here, and it doesn't look too serious. So, you're clear for any upcoming missions."

Shawn grunted and rubbed his leg. The power on her gun was tuned all the way down, it hadn't even went through his uniform, though it would give him one hell of a sunburn.

"Speaking of missions, when do you think we'll get sent out again? I'm not used to having this much free time?"

Whitley's voice came on over the intercom in the room, interrupting Aran before she could answer.

"Davis, Staples. Meet me in the conference room. We have a new assignment, high priority from Congress."

There was a pause before Whitley was heard again.

"Gear up and be ready within the hour. Double time it you two."

The intercom shut off as the two lieutenants looked at each other, worried expressions across their faces. Shawn spoke first.

"How did they know we were in here?"

Aran shook her head. The only possible reason was if they had the room under surveillance, and if that was the case…. She threw those worrying thoughts aside, maybe it was just a coincidence.

"Maybe they can track us through our ID chips, remember? They implanted them after recruit training. Besides do you think they would tell us to get geared up if they were going to arrest us?" She reassured him.

Davis shook his head; his face not relaxing in the slightest.

"Maybe just…Aran let's just drop this. The more we talk about this the worse I feel about this situation."

Aran sat up in her bed. "Shawn, we're so close. If I can just do it one more time…." She began to protest.

"No, no more. I…I don't want you to end up like Dixon or the others."

"But-"

"No." He cut her off again. "Just forget it, we don't know what we are even getting into. What does proving any of this do for us? This is our only home left Aran, we can't risk losing this one to."

She sighed defeated. He was right, even if she succeeded in her personal mission, they would only cause unrest on board the ship; assuming the A.I. didn't try and eliminate them first.

"Fine." She got up and put her Defender into the side holster of her uniform. She wasn't going to stop here, but she realized they needed to hold off on continuing this routine. _If you won't help me Shawn, then I'll do it alone._

* * *

"Now, Major may we continue?"

Whitley nodded towards the monitors. He noticed that the central one the Eden used as off, but the other four were still displaying the shadowy figures of the congressmen on them.

"Yes sirs, my apologies for that delay. What was the new information I was being given today."

The oldest member of the group spoke.

"Major, the president has asked that you be given 'Presidential Privilege.' Do you know what this means?"

The woman of Congress spoke next.

"We are being told to release our call signs to you. The president trust's you will be responsible with this information."

A younger voice interrupted the major before he could respond.

"We will also give you our communication lines. The president is developing a plan to take back America, so he has called for increased communication between your team and this council."

"I understand sirs-"

A voice that spoke at a higher volume than the other four spoke.

"We are placing the future of America and its citizens on your shoulders, Major."

Whitney narrowed his eyes and sighed behind his helmet. Even having the highest rank among those on board the _Neptune_ meant nothing to the congressmen. He waited a second before responding, just in case he got interrupted again.

"I understand how important this duty is, and I respectfully accept this new appointment."

The elderly man's voice spoke again. "Now that we have gotten that out of the way. My designation is 'T.J'."

At that, the monitor on Whitley's far right flickered off and on. When it turned back on, it displayed a wrinkled and haggard looking man, his silver hair nearly gone. A think white moustache hung above his lip and his eyes had just an ounce of color still in them.

The woman spoke next. "My designation is 'A.L'." The monitor on his far right shut off and on again. This time a woman in her mid-fifties appeared. Her hair cut short, wrinkles adorned all across her pale skin.

The younger voice went next. "My designation is 'T.R'."

The monitor besides 'A.L.' flickered like the others, this time a strikingly handsome man, who must have been no older than thirty, appeared. He had a firm jaw line, his skin had a strange tan to it, and there was not a single wrinkle or sign of aging on him. His hair was finely combed and his eyes seemed to staring directly in the Enclave major.

The louder voice sighed in annoyance. "My designation is G.W."

The last monitor went through the same cycle as the others, this one displaying a pudgy red haired man. Whitney couldn't tell where the man's neck connected to the rest of his body as the congressman's neck seemed to bulge out from the rest of his body. His face showed only an expression of annoyance.

Whitley kneed before the now visible faces of Congress. He felt humbled, as far as he knew no one in the Enclave besides him know what Congress looked like. There had been whispers among the recruits that Congress had died back on the oil rig out west, Colonial Autumn himself had even thought that. Now he had been entrusted with their identity.

"Major." 'A.L.' spoke. "The frequency of our channel is 140.85. The president's designation is 'J.E.' he requested that only you commutate with us using these designation."

'G.W.' jumped in. "We cannot stress to you how imperative it is to keep this a secret. Given how the societies among the outside world are developing, we are worried someone might be able to track us back to this location if they intercepted our communications."

'T.R.' followed up. "President Eden is not yet ready to reveal the Enclave to the world just yet. That is why your team is to secure the manufacturing plants within Pittsburg if possible. If you encounter any hostilities, well….you know what to do."

Whitley nodded and stood up.

"Understood. I will contact you once the objective is complete."

With that he strode out of the room, as one by one the monitors shut off.

* * *

"Sir, there's too many of them!"

Gustavo swore as he went to his last magazine. Somehow a horde of ghouls had managed to get in through the basement and were tearing his officers limb from limb. If he had been outside then this wouldn't of happened. He had been up in Tenpenny's suite investigating the mans murder when the attack occurred, catching him and his men off guard after having learned of their employers demise so recently. He knew Burke had killed him, Seeing how desperate the situation was he called everyone back; downing a pair of ghouls in the process.

"Everyone upstairs now!"

His eyes widened, as he watched as one Herbert "Daring" Dashwood, who despite his old age, ran straight through the ghoul mobs completely unscathed and rushed out the front door.

"Dashwood you bastard!"

Gustavo swore again as ghouls began to close in on his small group of guards. He could hear the terrified screams of the other residents all around him, as some barricaded themselves in their rooms and others tried to get in between the armed security guards and the exit. Gustavo turned to the men by the stair well as he laid down covering fire.

"What the fuck is taking so long? Open the damned door!"

"It won't budge!" Came the panicked reply.

As Gustavo turned back he came face to face with a feral. It swiped at him with its bony claw as he blocked it with his rifle, pushing back against it. The feral wrapped its skeletal hands around the rifle.

"Let. Go. You son of a bitch!"

Gustavo smacked the rifle into the creatures jaw and snapped its neck in the process; causing it to topple backwards into the horde of ghouls behind it. Before he could ready his rifle, a familiar voice caused all of them to stop.

"That's enough!"

Gustavo looked over to the source of the voice had come from and scowled.

"Should have known you'd show up Roy."

Roy looked up to the pack of trapped humans on the floor above.

"I'm sick of how you bastards mistreat us ghouls. But to show you how we're more civilized than you think, I'll give you one last chance to get out of here, or else my friends here will be having a smooth skin buffet."

Gustavo shook with rage as he went to aim at Phillips.

"Go fuck yourse-"

Gustavo never finished his sentence, as the entire building collapsed around them.

* * *

"You can't be serious right now."

"No, I am. I just don't see any other way."

John pulled out a mini nuke from the pack and held it in front of Sarah. Only a few feet beneath them a horde of troggs clawed and growled up at the pair. Fortunately the things were too stupid to try and flip the truck over, and shear number of the mutated beasts had created minor scuffles among the masses, as a few troggs began clawing and snapping at one another. For what must have been the hundredth time, John was thankful ninety percent of his attackers had the intelligence of a dog. He set his rifle and chest plate and on the truck.

"I can take out most of them by a chain reaction. You can make it into the city while I draw them back to the front of the bridge."

Sarah's brow furrowed.

"No, you're going to get ripped apart out there! Besides you know the city better than me. Can't the two of us make it across the bridge?"

John shook his head.

"It won't work. The remaining troggs will swarm us. If I run in the opposite direction towards you, then we have a chance. So I need you to toss this-" He lifted the mini nuke for emphasis. "-to me when I tell you to okay?"

A fierce fire sparked in Sarah's eyes.

"No, this isn't going to work. Can't you set a timer on this thing?"

At that a trogg fell from above onto John. He lost his grip on the mini-nuke as he grabbed the mutated creature's neck, as its teeth came centimeters away from tearing out his throat. He was just able to keep the trashing beast away. Sarah drew her laser pistol and vaporized the back of the troggs skull, killing it. John tossed the newly made corpse off his body and got back up. He felt the adrenaline still pumping through his system as he looked up from where the trogg had fallen, and felt his stomach drop. A small group of troggs were climbing the bridge support beams, elevating themselves so they could jump down onto the trapped pair below them.

"There's no time. Sorry Sarah."

He snatched up the mini-nuke and leap off the truck, as he dived over the horde of troggs and rolled off the top of a nearby car. He landed clumsily on his feet, as he ran as hard as he could to the wreckage at the entrance of the bridge. He could hear Sarah screaming at him, her voice just barely audible over the sympathy of grunts and savage noises of the trogg horde. He kept running, cradling the mini-nuke like one would with an infant. One trogg landed in front of him, but he knocked it away with a back handed strike, the beast's neck making a loud snapping noise as it splattered against the asphalt dead. He jumped on one car then hurled himself onto another as he slammed his back into the hood of the ancient machinery. He armed the mini nuke as troggs began to swarm him. He saw Sarah on the far side of the bridge staring back at him with a look of horror on her face. The mutated beasts scampered over one another as dozens of them began to encircle and rush his new position. He closed his eyes and slammed his fist into the front of it.

He heard Sarah scream out his name, then everything went black

* * *

Burke chuckled to himself as he watched the tower crumple into the ground.

"All too easy."

A cloud of dust and debris shot up into the air, which could be seen for miles. But that was just what the president wanted, something to let the people of the wasteland know that they weren't safe anymore. The Enclave agent turned and walked away from his latest creation. For the first time in years he was enjoying his assignments. He had wiped out two infested mutant camps, three if he counted the ghouls, and not a single person was onto him. As he strode towards his next target, he hummed his favorite song, with only the howling of the wind as his audience. " Oh, I don't want to set the world on fire..."

* * *

Sarah was nearly blinded by the flash of light that followed. Cars were launched up to ten feet in the air, trogg bodies scattered in all directions, and her ears rang as the explosion nearly deafened her. Unfortunately for her it also caused a chain reaction. The remaining troggs turned back towards her when another one exploded, then another, then another. The explosions kept going off taking out the surviving packs of troggs, but they slowly neared her location. The Brotherhood Sentinel leaped of the truck and ran to the other side of the bridge, John's pack slowed her down slightly, but the adrenaline made up for it. She would feel the wind rushing by her face, then felt herself being lifted up and hurtled through the air. She hit the ground hard and rolled, as the bridge behind her began to fall away. She dropped the pack and strained her eyes for any sign of John, but only saw dead trogg corpses and twisted metal. She felt her stomach drop as she dropped to her knees. She had just watched the Lone Wanderer die, and now she was in unfamiliar territory with no one to help her. _Did…Did that just happen?_ Her mind was overloaded as the true weight of the situation began to hit her. She was so consumed in her thoughts she forgot to listen to her surroundings. She heard something move behind her.

Sarah whirled around and was met with a blow from a rifle. Her vision began to fade as she hit the ground. Lyons heard one last thing before her consciousness left her. "You two, get to the other side and sweep for survivors. I'll take her to the general

* * *

 **Author Notes: Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. See you all soon. Please leave a review and tell me what you think. Also let me know if you guys find the hidden reference in this chapter. Hope you all have a great week. :)  
**


	17. Not Dead Yet

**Authors Notes: Hey all. I'm extremely sorry for having kept everyone waiting. This story is over a month past due. I hit a road block with school at first, then a few personal matters just put me off from writing. I'm back now, and after seeing/ playing Fallout 4 I finally know where I can now go in terms of story. I don't plan on having such an absence occur again, but I may miss a week here and there given my current situation. I'm working on chapter 18 right now and I hope to have that out by next week. See you guys until then, and also Happy New Years!**

* * *

John awoke to a world of pain. Nearly every inch of his body burned unceasingly, as if he had stood between two flamers for half a day. As his eyes opened, he found his recon underlay had been mostly intact, with the section of armor up to his elbows being completely destroyed, but his combat armoring was still in place to his surprise. He was now laying on a bed of twisted metal which was one time a functional car, with the gory remains of long dead troggs scattered all about the bridge. His eyes widened in surprise for a moment as he saw the state of his body. The explosion had peeled away the first layer of his skin and had seemingly gone through the second layer as well, but it was now regenerating at a steady , his entire body burned like a pulsing nerve, John supposed this was what being skinned alive felt like.

His ears were ringing, and is body was almost numb from the amount of pain he was enduring, but for the most part he was fine. He struggled to lift his head up and winced as he positioned his left arm, as he tried to look at his Pip-boy. He glanced over the rad counter and let his head drop back, the Geiger counter clocked his radiation level at over nine hundred rads. Despite the high level of radiation, he was still alive, not suffering from internal organ failure, and his skin wasn't pealing off. _Fuck, I'm never doing this again…._ His theory was correct it seemed, he could survive a point blank mini nuke detonation, and high levels of lethal radiation poisoning with no side effects; at least for the moment.

He laid there for a moment, feeling his strength quickly returning. How long he sat there he wasn't sure, maybe an hour? The pain was starting to ease away now, and his hearing was starting to return. With it though, he began to hear the distorted voices of two individuals. One had the scratchy and worn voice of a ghoul, while the other was the unmistakable grumbling of a super mutant. John swore silently and tried to hide his broken body. Normally he would have no issue killing them, but given his current state he knew that wasn't going to happen. He couldn't see them though, an assortment of car parts and concrete blocked his vision, but the two seemed to be in an argument about something.

"Come on you dumb fuck, it's only a few feet across. You can just step over it."

"Nuh uh. You try to trick me. Me no fall for your tricks no more."

"The sooner you get your dug ass across, the sooner we can get back to the base. So hurry the fuck up, I hate being out here."

Fortunately the two were bickering. That would give John a little more time to conceal himself. His arms had enough strength to pull him a few centimeters at a time, though it put him in great pain to do it. He grabbed a hold of what used to be a fender with his raw hands and pulled himself up slowly. His armor scratched against the rusted metal scrap pile under him, making a slight grinding noise. The pain had faded for the most part, but having shards of eroded steel dig into his still raw palms was a new kind of hell he had not experienced. He bite down hard on his lip, drawing blood as he did so as he began to drag himself under the wreckage. He swore silently as he worked his way over the pile of metal and hit his back on the fragmented concrete beneath him, making a rather loud thud as he did so. His worries came to fruition as he heard the scratchy voice again.

"Hey, I think heard something."

* * *

The throbbing on the back of her head is what Sarah Lyons awoke to. The smell of sulfur and smoke clogged her nostrils and her eyes stung as they opened to a hellish scene. It seemed that she was in a half-lit office, with a fiery glow being the only source of light in the room. The last thing she remembered was being on the bridge and watching as it began to crumble from the explosion John triggered…. _Oh shit, John!_ Her eyes widened at the realization. She looked around the room to see if he had been brought in with her. While John was nowhere to be found, she quickly found she was not alone.

A large armored figure stood facing a small window, from which the light source was streaming into the room. The red glow of the fires below them enveloped his figure, casting an ominous shadow about the room. From what she could tell, the man was wearing power armor of some kind. To his back faced an old desk, long since abandoned for any practical means. She tried to stand, only to find herself shackled to a chair, causing the chains that held her to rattle. The sound snapped the figure out of his daze as he turned back to her, causing the light to reveal an aged and scared elderly man. Sarah noticed that he wore power armor of some kind based on the thick plates that adored the suit. It had obviously seen better days though as a chain had been tightly wrapped around the left shoulder plate. The man reminded Lyons' of her father, as he appeared to an aged veteran of some conflict ages ago. He steeped towards her slowly, as he seemed to observing her with every footstep he took. Sarah took a deep breath and willed her worrying thoughts of her comrade away, she needed to focus on the present and go from there. He brushed his right hand across the desk

"Hopefully you'll be more cooperative than the last one." The stranger said calmly. "So let's start with introductions. I am General Cyrus of the Brotherhood of Steel. My men brought you here after they found you on the outskirts of my city. Care to explain?"

He made eye contact with her, and instantly something felt wrong about his eyes. Lyons felt a chill run up her spine as she looked deeper into the grey orbs of the man before her. His pupils were lifeless, as if underneath the surface there wasn't a living person inhabiting it. There was no energy to them only a faded gray that seemed to faintly shimmer in the dark, and as she looked deeper there appeared to be no emotion within them she could make out. Uncomfortable with this situation, her eyes glanced down and made out a faded Brotherhood insignia on his right shoulder plate. She gazed back up at his eyes. "What do you mean your city?"

A small scowl played across Cyrus' face as he gave a response.

"My city, as I said before. The place those wastelanders' call 'the Pitt'. Now, mind telling me why you decided to destroy part of the infrastructure of our newest acquirement? Or how you got here in the first place?" His tone was more threatening this time as he leaned forward just slightly.

Sarah stared right through him as she spoke, ignoring the hostility this man was trying to show her. "You sound like those asses out west. This isn't your city, you took this away from the people who lived her by force."

The general slammed his fist into the table, causing it to crack as a loud shutter echoed about the room. "The primitives here didn't know the power they were misusing. We are re-purposing it for our own needs. Now, answer the damned question sentinel."

Sarah rolled her eyes, at the mention of her title. "Are you trying to intimidate me? Because if you think reading my name off a holotag is supposed to scare me you're sadly-"

Lyons' was stopped an iron fist struck the side of her face, causing her to fall to the side, bringing the chair with her to the floor. A small cloud of dirt was kicked up as she hit the wooden floor. Sarah had the taste of copper in her mouth, and felt the left side of her face beginning to swell. She soon found herself being lifted into the air by an enraged Cyrus, chair and all.

"I don't have times for these damn games! Start talking!"

Sarah's response was to spit the blood from her mouth onto his armor as she smirked, a faint trail of blood running from her recently split lip.

"You really suck at interrogations. Has anyone ever told you that?"

The general responded in kind, by tossing her clear across the room.

* * *

John felt his heartbeat quicken as he heard footsteps start coming towards his location. He looked around frantically, ignoring the pains in his upper body, as he tried to find a place to hide; only to find no refuge in site. He glanced down at his side holster, his 10mm pistol was still there. He shot his hand out for the weapon as quick as he could. The adrenaline in his system numbed the pain as his frayed hand gripped the handle of the weapon and pulled. He just cleared the holster when a ghoul wearing metal armor stepped around the left side of the car in front of him, aiming a gun John had never seen before in his area. Everything seemed to slow down for a moment as John brought the gun to bare on his target. He lined up the bead of the gun with the head of a ghoul. He saw those damned numbers appear again as he did so; _97% to hit._ He pulled the trigger just as the ghoul opened its mouth, and blew a hole straight through its forehead. The ghoul took one step forward before crumpling to the ground. Fresh blood flowed onto the concrete and slipped into the cracks of the bridge, as the ghoul's weapon clattered to the floor and landed beside John's leg.

The ghoul's green counterpart then appeared, barreling over the destroyed car and landing directly underneath John. Its two muscular legs were on each side of him as it raised it's super sledge into the air. John pressed the hot muzzle of his gun into the monster's kneecap and unloaded five shots into it, shattering the bone and tearing muscles as the mutant fell back onto it's only functional leg. It shouted in agony as it stumbled back, the weapon in it's grasp slammed down just an inch away from the Wanderer's head, shooting bits of shattered rock into his face. John's mind worked in a frenzy as he looked for a way to kill the mutant before it could recover. Subconsciously, his hand snatched up the discarded gun to his side and trained it on the staggered mutant. Again, everything seemed to slow down as he leveled the barrel of the gun on his newest attacker, the cross hairs were aimed at the mutant's chest causing the numbers to appear again; _79% to hit._

Without a second thought he pulled the trigger as a twelve gauge slug discharged from the weapon and reduced the mutant to a bloody mess. The recoil of this new gun nearly took John's arm off as he had fired it with a single hand. The shot blew apart the chest cavity of the monster apart, s it stumbled backwards spewing it's insides until falling upon he wreckage of cars; dead. He dropped both weapons and laid on the blood stained bridge exhausted. Just one more hour and he'd be able to get out of here. Looking up at the fading light in the sky, he figured he had just under an hour before head hurt like hell now. John swore he could feel his brain throbbing inside his skull.

"I really hate this place." He muttered to himself.

* * *

 _Interesting…_. Eden's circuits hummed at a higher pitch as he examined the records of Vault 101. Overseer logs, medical records, incident reports; anything that occurred within the two hundred years the vault was first sealed was documented here. His most intriguing find so far, however, was that the vault had recently had a new overseer put in charge; Amata Almodovar. The computer began digging through medical records and cross checking them with the records it had made during the Wanderer's captivity at Raven Rock. After a few microseconds, a single result came back; John Striker. Seeing the match, Eden immediately began to dig into files. What it had uncovered was more information on this man's identity.

According to the records, John had been forced out of the vault on August, 17th, 2277 after his father had left for unknown reasons. Eden inserted the man's name and filtered through the log entries of the vault. Based on information it had collected from numerous terminal entries over the course of twenty years, it appeared that John had an affection for one Amata Almodovar. According to the most recent entries, this affection caused him to return to the vault to settle a dispute, it was during this time that Amata was put in power. Eden accessed the Vault-Tec controls for the vault systems and ran a diagnostics on them. A quarter of the vaults seemed to have been put offline, but the computer for Vault 101 was still functional, as where most of the vaults in the Capital. Satisfied, Eden began to download the access codes to his memory core. Due to multitasking it would take some time to store all of the codes and categorize them, but he had plenty of time. With that one objective complete he moved onto his next project.

* * *

"No, absolutely unacceptable. I don't care how strongly you feel about this, Amata. I cannot abide by this."

"Come on Mr. A, you're the only one still fighting us on this."

"You watch your mouth, Deloria. After the record you have here, I should have tossed you out with that brat of James the first time he left."

Amata sighed and dug her fingers into her temples; trying to soothe her throbbing headache. The negotiations for the opening of the vault had been going on for nearly three days. During that time, she had barely slept longer than two hours at a time, mostly due to nightmares she had been having. In those three days though she and Butch had managed to calm Stanly and Susie's concerns about life outside. The only member of the group that refused to budge was Amata's father, Alphonse Almodovar. Despite their best attempts, the former overseer refused to agree with them at every turn. Amata looked up at her father from across the table. They had enough people supporting the opening of the vault, but if she could get her father's approval it would make the convincing of the few reluctant inhabitants of Vault 101 significantly easier.

"Father, please. I know you're concerned, but we need to think about the future. We'll die down here, you know that."

She watched as her father's eyes narrow as he turned his gaze toward her.

"At least we can die knowing we are more civilized than those…those beasts out there! I am appalled by all of you, to not think of the consequences of this action." He pointed an accusing finger at Susie.

"Especially you, Miss Mack. You seeing firsthand what it was like out there, now wish to return to that hell?"

Stanly leaned forward in his chair and tried to defend Susie. "Alphonse, you need to look at the bigger picture here. Either way we are opening the vault, with or without your blessing."

The former overseer was about to unload on the mechanic when Susie jumped in.

"I understand completely what we are doing here. While I don't like the idea of having to live out there, it sure beats staying cramped up in here until we all die from old age or radroaches finish us off."

Alphonse stood up, a look of rage in his face as he looked around the room with a hardened look.

"You're all a bunch of damn fools." He looked up at Amata and his face twitched slightly. "Then you can all leave without me. I'll stay here, where we belong."

Before anyone could say anything else, he stormed out of the room leaving the rest of the group in silence. Amata stared at the door as it slip shut and felt all eyes in the room turn towards her. She sighed and closed her eyes as she stood up from the table.

"Butch, get your officers ready. Susie do a supply check, and Stanly see if there are any systems you can savage parts from."

The three moved away from the table as Stanly and Susie began to file out of the room.

"Amata, you gonna be alright? You don't really think-"

She put up her hand to silence him as she opened her eyes again. She swallowed the lump that was growing in her throat and spoke

"I'm fine."

She strode toward the exit, but stopped before walking into the hall.

"But thanks for asking Butch."

With that she left the conference room behind to confront her father.

* * *

"Okay… Try now Owyn."

The right rotatory cuff sputtered for a moment before finally responding to the operators movements, as the servos whirled in response. Rothchild breathed a sigh of relief and shut the access panel to his old friend's new appeal. He took a step back and frowned slightly as he looked upon the elder now donning a suit of power armor; an armor he would have to wear for what little amount of life he had left.

"It works perfectly, my thanks old friend." The elder said weakly.

Over the past few days, his condition had degraded significantly. His face had paled greatly, he was having trouble standing or walking by himself, and his couching fits were occurring more frequently. Seeing him now in this suit brought back memories of the old days; back when they were out west. The old scribe couldn't help but smile bitterly at the old memories, they had been friends for nearly seventy years now. Now, after all that time, it appeared that the road was winding down for both of them. Rothchild's smile faded as he was brought back into the present.

"I'm just glad Cross helped me disable the security wiring, the damned thing nearly blew the lab to pieces on a few occasions."

Elder Lyons chuckled lightly and took a few experimental steps in the suit, trying to get back into the swing of wearing the bulky armor again. Feeling that everything was satisfactory he turned to the holomap that Rothchild had recently installed in his room.

"Now that we have addressed this issue, how goes the excavation?"

Rothchild shook his head and moved towards the map as he enhanced the region of Fort Independence.

"Unfortunately, Vallincourt and her group still haven't been able to penetrate the basement of the fort. She did say though, that they expect to be able to access the facility by the end of the week. Which means we are down two squads for at least the next three days."

Lyons sat upon his bed, being careful not to apply to much weight to the worn metal frame. He nodded in understanding at the head scribes words.

"I see…." He said, stroking his bread with his now armored hand. "How about the survivor we recovered? Has anyone identified her?"

"Yes, the survivor we recovered was former paladin Annie Marie Morgan. Currently, she is still comatose for the time being." Rothchild explained.

A knock at the elder's door drew their attention away.

"E-excuse me, Elder Lyons?" A young voice spoke. The two immediately knew it was Squire Maxson. Owyn attempted to answer it, but the scribe to beat him to it. As Rothchild opened the door, he found the small child standing at attention. The young boy looked up at him and fidgeted nervously.

"G-greetings, Scribe Rothchild. My a-apologies for interrupting…" Maxson stuttered.

Rothchild only smiled and opened the door wider.

"No need to be nervous, squire. Have you come for your lessons?"

The boy nodded slowly.

Rothchild stepped aside and allowed the child in.

"Well, we are currently in the middle of reporting the week's events, but I see no harm in letting the future elder participate."

As Maxson entered, Rothchild shut the door and walked back to the holomap. The squire stood awkwardly by Lyons' bed before the elder offered him to sit on the bed.

Maxson thanked Lyons and sat down. Rothchild turned back to the map and highlighted several spots on it. The next two hours would be pure torture for any child Maxson's age, but the youth didn't seem to mind the droning of logistics or the constant positioning reports. Clearing his throat, the scribe launched himself into another full length status report of the water cravens.

"Now, these here represent our current patrol sectors…."

* * *

 **Author Notes: Hope you guys enjoy this chapter, please leave a review and tell me what you think. I hope to see you all next week, and enjoy the new year everyone.**


	18. Just Gets Worse

**Author Notes: Hi all, sorry it's been so long. The past month and a half I've been dealing with some major changes in life, not to mention changing things in the story. I've also been making plans to have this story follow into Fallout 4 or New Vegas, haven't decided yet, but before I can even think of a sequel I need to focus on this story. I'm going to finish this story, hopefully soon if everything stays as it is,**

* * *

John had been in a lot of shitty situations in his life, but this one was starting to get up to the top of list. His skin and tissue had finally healed up, allowing him to move up to the entry way of the city, but his head was still throbbing like crazy. Unfortunately, he was unable to find his rifle he had brought with him, or any spare ammo for his handgun. He peeked around a corner, eyeing the steel gate before him. He grimaced as he found that they had decorated the street to the gate with the corpses of former Pitt raiders. Their bodies were rotten and decomposed from exposure to the elements; the stench combined with the sickening air of the Pitt almost made even the wanderer feel nauseous. He ignored the sensation and focused on the defenses ahead. Floodlights sat on top of the ramshackle wall, with barbed wire covering the top of steel fence. Two guards in power armor stood watch in front, with four men in combat armor above them seemingly providing over watch; all of them holding weapons John had never seen before.

Thankfully due to recently setting of the sun, they didn't seem to notice that the newcomer. John ran his hand through his low cut hair and frowned. He lacked the fire power to punch through this group. Even if he did he would be putting Ashur in danger, or even Sarah if she was being held captive. He winced at the thought of his missing friend. He wasn't sure where she was exactly, but he had no intention of leaving until he found her. The former vault dweller gripped his trench knife tightly in his hands, he would have to do this the quiet way, at least until he found her and Ashur. He pulled up his pipboy and brought up a map of the local area. The wanderer looked up from the miniaturized computer screen and tried to see if there was any other way to infiltrate the outer defenses of the Pitt. _So they stacked up at the gate, and I'm assuming they have even more sentries on standby…._

He smiled slightly as he found there was sewer system that could be accessed from the east of the city, something these new invaders may not have known about. John carefully crawled back towards the walkway along the bridge. He looked over the railing to get a fix on what exactly he was going to do. The water below was black and sluggish, even with the moon shining on it, no reflection was given. The most disconcerting to John was the eerie glow that seemed to illuminate the entire waterway. The fall down there might not kill him, but whatever was in that river most certainly would. He spotted his ticket in, roughly fifty feet away from the bridge, sitting barely six inches above the water line. From what he could tell, it appeared to have been part of a prewar building. _If I climb down the bridge and across the side of the buildings, I should be able to make it._ The wanderer looked back at the entry way and sighed. _Why can't this ever be simple?_ He slung his newly acquired shotgun over his shoulder and holstered his pistol. He took a deep breath, before swinging his leg over the railing and beginning his climb down the side of the bridge.

* * *

"Is that all you have? Gotta say...I'm a little disappointed"

Sarah smirked up at the enraged man before her. Her face was swollen from the numerous blows she had sustained, and there was a burning sensation pulsed up and down her sides; which she assumed were some busted ribs from the general's earlier display. She licked the small trickle of blood from her split lip as Tycho reeled his fist back to land another blow on Sarah, but stopped before the armored gauntlet made contact barely a hair away from her.

"No. I have wasted enough time with you already. I have more urgent matters to deal with." He turned his back to her and stood towards the window behind the desk.

Sarah spat out a small gob of blood onto the floor and sneered at the armored man before her.

"Just because you wear the symbol, doesn't give you the power to do what you want. You're not Brotherhood, just a glorified thug with a fancy title."

Sarah couldn't tell if he was ignoring her or not, as Tycho never responded to her comment

"Billius," He called out. "Take her to the holding cells."

Sarah heard loud thundering footsteps from behind her and soon found a massive green hand gripping her shoulders. "Oggie doogie Jeaneral." The chair was turned around as Lyons came face to face with a massive super mutant. Even through the poor lighting of the room, she could see it was roughly the size of an overload, with parts of automobiles and rebar creating an armored shell around its entire body. It flashed a wide smile at her, revealing severely rotten teeth that probably hadn't been brushed in a century.

"Okay little human. You come with me now."

Lyons was yanked off the ground, as the mutant lifted her with ease in his one hand and proceeded to carry her out the room; chair and all. She gritted her teeth in disgust and kicked the mutant in the shin. "Get your damn hands off me mutie!" Even with steel toed boots on, Sarah could feel the mutant's thick hide resist the initial impact of her kick. Billuis paid her no mind as he began to converse with Sarah. "No worry, you find Jeaneral is good human. He be Billuis friend for long time. He be your friend too."

The mutant began to ramble on, but Sarah wasn't paying him any attention. How could she have been so foolish and get herself captured like this? Not only had she lost the supplies they needed to fight back, but John's sacrifice might have been in vain. _John…._ Lyons winced at the thought of her fallen comrade. She had lost many soldiers over the years; it was a way of life she had come to accept, but to lose the Wanderer wound be devastating for the Capital. Maybe he was still alive though, maybe he found some way to survive and was fighting this very moment to reach her. Sarah pushed the depressing thoughts of John away. If there was even a chance he was still fighting, then she would too.

* * *

The climb wasn't as difficult as John originally thought it would be. The poor condition of the bridge had caused numerous fractures and breaks within its steel structure, which functioned as handholds for someone crazy enough to try and climb across it. He eased himself over to the right slowly; being careful not to put too much strain on the rusted metal of the bridge. His legs dangled above a heavily radiated river, as he slowly inched towards a half collapsed building on the far side. He felt the rusted edges of the bridge dig and sometimes cut into his palms and exposed wrists. The bleeding wasn't the issue, as the small radiation from the river helped seal the cuts before they became serious, but his palms were starting to become wet and he found it harder to maintain or even hold his grip. He continued on though, if he was fast enough then he could make it to the other side before he lost his hold. He shimmed along the side, going as fast as his arms could carry him, when he suddenly felt a sharp pain shoot through the middle of his right hand.

"Son of a bitch…." He swore, doing his best to keep from being too loud, as he glanced up to see his right palm impaled on a jagged spike of steel. He tried to pull it free, but only caused himself even more agony, as the hand remained staked on the aged metal. John gritted his teeth and pulled himself onto the beam with a great deal of effort using his remaining free hand. He wrapped his left arm around the beam and tried to see what he could do. His right hand was throbbing madly, as he found it difficult to concentrate on the matter at hand. He assumed the spike had become wedged between one of the bones in his hand, which left only one way for him to remove it; he'd have to break the piece off the bridge and pull the spike out himself. As he attempted to reposition himself, he heard the beam he was currently clinging to start to creak.

To make matters worse, he quickly found that his natural regeneration was beginning to heal over the spike; his body was fusing to the aged metal. _If I some med-x on hand this might not be so bad. If I could just reach my knife though…._ He found himself shaken from his thoughts as he heard the beam creak again, slightly louder this time as the section he hung from began to slope down. He looked down below to the glowing river of death below, his Geiger counter began to hum loudly as the support he clung began to slowly break away. He knew then he didn't have time to do this the easy way; this was going to hurt like hell. The young man clenched his teeth as he did his best to make a fist with his right hand, before yanking it back as hard as he could. He was rewarded his a ever greater amount of pain lancing up and down his arm as the caught appendage stayed firmly in place; a fresh stream of blood being to seep out of the newly reopened wound.

"Oh…you have got to be kidding me." John gasp out as he felt his nerve endings go numb from the pain pulsing through his system. He pressed against the rusted girder to take a moment and catch his breath before trying again.

Suddenly John felt his entire body begin to burn as an unnatural heat began to sweep through his body. Concerned, he looked to the miniaturized computer clamped to his wrist. His eyes went wide as the gauge on his radiation counter was now over one thousand. Frantically, John felt a surge of adrenaline as he pulled up on his skewered hand. Little by little he could feel the oxidized metal slowly losing its grip, as he tried his best to suppress the waves of agony that were impacting his nervous system, but for every time he would make progress with it, the radiation had his regeneration sent to overdrive; it was healing faster than he could pull it out. The warmth began to swell inside him, as the heat went from mildly comfortable to a heat that burned hotter than a heavy incinerator. His vision flashed as the heat only increased. As he struggled with his predicament, he began to feel the futility of his effort, when all of the sudden he felt his hand was now free. Even though his hand was no longer pinned, he knew he didn't have much time. _If I can just get higher up-._ Before he could even finish his thoughts, he felt wind rushing up at him. The rusted girder could no longer support his weight, as it plummeted towards the toxic waters below; with John still holding onto it.

* * *

Burke never liked meeting with Jabsco. The Talon Company commander had an ego the size of a behemoth and the intelligence of a molerat. His ambition was about the only thing Burke could even find appealing. Fort Bannister was one of the more secure locations in the wasteland, and Talon Company was now one of the few groups with any sort of organization now. While they were nothing compared to the Brotherhood of Steel, their forces were well trained and equipped; for the most part. As he was escorted past the front gates of the fort, he felt the suspicious gazes of the mercenaries upon him. Burke wasn't surprised, his name was synonymous with suicide from all of the men Jabsco had lost on attempts on the Wanderer's life. His escorts wore combat armor with the Talon Company logo messily painted on the front and both held 10mm machine guns close to their chests.

The pair walked him through a security checkpoint and down a few flights of stairs as they took him along the many underground passages of the fort. From what Burke had gathered on them, Jabsco had been struggling to keep the group together, as the Wanderer either took out his clients or a vast majority of his employees; sometimes even both. They finally arrived at the command room of the base as his two escorts stopped before the heavy steel door. One of them raised his hand and rapped on the door, and as if on cue it whirled open. Seeing their assignment complete the two escorts turned towards Burke and gave a curt nod before leaving the Enclave agent to his business. Burke brushed away the imaginary wrinkles on his suit before pushing on through the open bulkhead. The command room was one of the larger rooms in the facility. A desk sat on an elevated platform in the center of the room with a set of stairs leading to the commander's room below on either side of it. Burke saw the figure of Jabsco reading a document at his desk, seemingly unaware or unconcerned with his new visitor. As Burke approached he heard the whirling of two turrets and looked up to find a pair set up in the back corners of the room. Upon hearing the whirl of the turrets, Jabsco looked up at Burke. His gaze hardened as their eyes met.

"I can't fucking believe you."

Burke smirked as he stared back defiantly through his shades.

"Where you expecting anyone else? Last I heard most of your clientele had mystically vanished. Must be desperate for caps I bet?"

"Not that desperate." The mercenary sneered. "You gotta a lot of balls coming Burke. Give me one reason why I shouldn't just kill you right now."

Burke's eyebrows raised just a tad as he heard the click of a handgun as the Talon Company leader brandished a Chinese modeled pistol.

"Because I have a business opportunity that I know you can't refuse. How does ten thousand caps sound?"

Burke saw the twitch on Jabsco's face as the offer was laid out.

"Prove it."

"Not until you start showing some respect. I am your last remaining client after all."

"Not if you keep talking you suit wearing prick."

"Then I guess I'll just give my caps to your ranger friends. I'm sure they wouldn't mind."

Burke held back a chuckle as he saw the merc's face twitch in rage at his little jab, but he wasn't worried. If there was one thing Burke knew about Jabsco, it was that even if he was rotten to the core he had a strange sense of honor about him. After a moment of hesitation, he relented and slammed the pistol on the desk as his security turrets powered down. "God Dammit." He swore and sat back down in his chair, obviously frustrated at his situation. He looked up at Burke; a hint of anger still gleaming in his eye.

"If you're here to put a mark on the Wanderer again…..."

A wicked smile spread across the Enclave agent as he had the mercenary right where he wanted him.

"No, it's actually something much easier. How do you feel about ruling the Capital Wasteland?"

Seeing the look of stupor on the commander's face was all Burke needed to see. _Oh, this is going to work marvelously._

* * *

Lucas Simms could hardly believe his eyes. He heard the rumors that Tenpenny Tower had disappeared into a cloud of smoke, but it wasn't until now that he actually believed it.

"What in the hell…."

Standing on the walls of Megaton, Tenpenny Tower could always be seen in the distance. Even if was just a small object on the horizon, it was always there; until now. The sheriff turned back to the Megaton watchman, Stockholm. "You weren't kidding were you?"

He only shook his head. "I didn't believe it either, but one second it was there then poof, nothing."

Simms looked back at the horizon. Something was not right about this, but he didn't have the resources to investigate any further. It had only been a day ago when some Brotherhood knights showed up with a badly wounded outcast, and everyone in the town was talking about it. Despite Simms best attempts to try and calm peoples fears, the fact that a fort full of power armored forces was wiped out over night was a terrifying thought indeed. Simms found himself worrying about the cause of such destruction, and if the people of Megaton were to learn the Tenpenny Towers was gone too….

"Christ. You keep a lookout for anything out of the ordinary. I'm heading to talk to the Brotherhood first thing tomorrow."

Simms turned toward his house as a light breeze rose up, kicking up the tail of his trench coat into the dusty night air. There was something definitely wrong here, and for the first time in almost a year, Simms was worried.

* * *

It took a fair bit of time before Bullius finally brought Sarah to an area she could only assume were the holding cells. It seemed that beneath the factory there were small cages that had been moved into a storage area. There were about seven cages, all of which were empty. In the back of the room there stood a rather stocky looking man posted in front of an armored door. He was wearing a set of metal armor with a Brotherhood emblem lazily painted on the right breastplate. A jagged scar ran across his forehead and down to the left side of his cheek, and his head had been recently shaven. Sarah's mutant captor sat her down before the mysterious man. Sarah raised her head to glare up at the man before her, but the super mutant behind her pressed her shoulders down, keeping her gaze directed at the concrete floor.

"Get your damn hands off me!" Sarah grunted as she strained to free herself from the mutant's grasp.

"Oh look at that, another one with an attitude." The shaven man before Sarah clenched his hand on her chin and raised it up to meet his eyes.

"You're much prettier than those slaves we captured, how about we get to know one another a little better tonight?"

The man was only rewarded by a head butt to the nose, causing him to stumble backwards from the blow. Billius reacted by wrapping his large green digits around her neck, holding the sentinel in place and reducing the amount of air she could recieve. "No, bad human! You no fight!" The mutant lectured as it easily held her in place.

"Not even in your dreams you fuck!" Sarah spat as she struggled to breathe against the mutants grip.

The man she had injured got back to his feet as he wiped away a trickle of blood from under his nostrils.

"Oh, come tomorrow morning you're going to regret that girly. Throw her ass in there, I've had enough of this shit."

Billius only grunted as he opened the door with his free hand before tossing Lyons in. Sarah landed on her stomach as she hit the cell floor. She pushed herself up on her knees as the door slammed shut behind her. The room was dimly lit by a lone flickering light in the center of, what Sarah assumed was, a storage room in some distant past. Besides a small drainage grate in the center of the room, the only other feature were dark edges where the weak lighting of the room could not reach.

"Don't mind Hal, he's a push over. I've seen molerats with more guts then him."

Sarah heard a voice call from one of the darkened corners of the room. She directed her attention to the source of the noise and saw a dark skinned man dressed in rags. The man stepped into the light, and as his features were revealed to Sarah something about him seemed familiar to her.

"You aren't from around here are you?" The stranger asked, eyes studied her for a moment before he nodded; seemingly satisfied by whatever he was looking for.

"Who are you?" Lyons asked as she got back on her feet. The man didn't seem hostile at the moment, but she knew that some people could flip personalities at a moment's notice. She looked harder at the man's face and the feeling of familiarity did not vanish in the slightest. "I feel like I know you…."

The stranger smiled faintly "You should. It's been awhile, Sarah."

* * *

 **Author notes: I'd like to thank all of you for taking the time to read this, again I apologize for taking so long in getting this update out, but I plan on having chapter 19 up by next week. Thanks again for all your support. :)  
**


	19. Pieces in Motion

**Author Notes: Hi all. I'm back. Sorry for the absence, but RL zapped me of inspiration for a while. I've been also planning on expanding this story into Fallout 4 once I finally get around to finishing this little work. Please tell me your thoughts, and as as always thank you for taking your time to read this. :)**

* * *

Pausing for a moment outside her office, Amata took a moment to steady herself. In all her years, she never imagined that things would come to this. At the age of twenty she was having to lead over two dozen people in a vault that was breaking apart around them. It seemed like ever since John had left, her life had been on a down spiral. _Come on Amata, get a hold of yourself_. She scolded herself as she felt tears of frustration beginning to bubble to the surface. She knew her father was in the next room, and that the next few moments would determine where their relationship would go. She took a deep breath and soothed the emotions that were flaring up within her. _Okay...here we go_. She hit the door controls to the room and saw her father sitting in front of her desk. His head spun towards her, a genuine look of surprise on his face.

"Oh, Amata. I should have expected you." He said, a pained expression adorned his face.

"Father." She said plainly. She took a few hesitant steps into the room, as the door whirled to a close behind her. She made her way to her desk and sat down before him.

"I know why your here. You want to convince me to go with you into that hellhole outside."

"Dad-"

"Amata, I'm not leaving." He said sternly, as the sadness behind his eyes vanished into the intense glare he often wore during his days as overseer.

"But, you'll die!" She retorted. "Y-you can't just stay here! There's a new life out there, for all of us. We don't have to sacrifice our freedoms anymore. We can live on the surface, John-" She stopped at the mention of _his_ name.

Her father sighed and shook his head. "Yes, we all know about John. Which is why I refuse to go."

Amata gripped the arms of her chair as she remained seated. She could feel the tears welling up behind her eyes, as she stared at her father. This man, for all his flaws and cruelty he had become known for was still her father; and the only constant that she had left in her life. Everyone and everything she had known had been changed or taken away within the past year and a half. Now the only thing left of her old life would rather sit below ground and waste away instead of starting life anew. This was beyond asinine, this was just stupid, unreasonable. Yes, she knew there were risks with going outside, but their chances were better out in the open rather in this aged prison. As all these thoughts race through her mind, Amata couldn't control herself any longer as she jumped up and slammed her hands on the desk.

"Damn it dad!"

She screamed, as the tears began to slowly trickle down her face. Her father seemed taken aback, as he nearly fell out of his chair with her outburst.

"Stop pulling this shit! Stop thinking about what you want! You've always done what was best for the people until now. I need you out there, we need you out there! What would mom say-"

She paused, as she found herself getting choked up, as she slowly sank back into her chair.

"Just…don't make this harder on me. Please…."

She muttered, her voice softer, weaker now, as the full stress of all her responsibilities hit her once again. She buried her face into her palms as she wept. She hated herself for this, she truly did, but there was nothing she could do now. She felt like she was suffocating, trapped between her personal losses and the stresses of leadership. She felt alone, scared, unsure of what the next few moments would bring. Until a familiar warmth washed over her, as her father embraced his grieving daughter. For the first time in five years, the two Almodovar's were a family again.

* * *

Once again it was quiet in the passenger section of the Omega squad's vertibird. From his HUD Whitney could see that Staples and Davis had set up their own private frequency, again. He sighed in irritation. Doing such a thing was a breach in protocol, but since the last dozen warnings hadn't gotten through to them he knew another would just be a waste of his time. The major turned to the team's uncomfortably silent weapon specialist. The sergeant had been staring down into the deck of the vertibird since take off almost two hours ago. Howard hadn't said a word to anyone since the last mission, and seeing as he was the newest member or the squad, Whitney felt the need to iron out this issue before it evolved into something new. Pulling up the navigation map up on his HUD, he found they still had three hours in transit.

* * *

"No, no, no, no. Please God no..." Howard muttered, as he limped-ed along the war torn corridor he now found himself in. He no doubt had a few broken ribs and possibly internal damage, but that wasn't going to stop him from finding who he was looking for. He nearly tripped over on of his fallen comrades as he moved as quick as he could to the only surviving member of his squad; his twin sister. As he reached her, he was nearly in shock over her condition; a massive hole had been punched through her front chest plate, as blood seemed to slowly trickle out of it, her legs laid at an odd angle, no doubt broken or shattered, while her body laid on the hard ground limp and almost corpse like in it's stillness. She barely managed to tilt her head towards him, her short blond hair now coated in dry blood as her shattered helmet laid useless by her side. She spoke, her voice weak and muffled by the ringing in his ears. He slowly cradled her body, as he tried to hear what she had to say, causing her to gasp out in pain.

"Matt…I can't feel my legs Matt…."

His hands were shaking as he pressed his hands over the gaping wound in his sister's abdomen. He could hear the panicked comm frequencies over the nearby radio. The master sergeant was lucky to be alive. The chest piece of his armor had been torn open by an explosive blast of some kind. Somehow he was only rendered unconscious and earned a minor wounds, but the rest of his squad wasn't so lucky. Out of his seven-man squad, five were dead; only he and his sister were left. Blood coated his hands and arms as he tried to try and figure out what to do next.

"J-just hold on Sarah. They'll be here soon…"

He looked around desperately for anything he could use to bind his sister's wounds, but he was too panicked to think correctly. He was trembling from a mix of nerves and fear. None of this would have happened if it wasn't for _him_. The Wanderer had mowed through them in a matter of seconds, countering whatever they did in a blink of an eye. Even with power armor on, every move of his was fluid, every shot precise; they never stood a chance. Everything seemed to of happened so fast, Howard still had registered the entire thing. One minute they were on patrol, next minute they are on full alert and being ordered to hold off the intruders until they could be reinforced. From what Howard could tell, it seemed the weakened command structure had finally buckled in on itself as panicked officers began barking confused and frenzied orders over the nearby discarded radio. Sarah coughed up another splotch of blood as her body quivered from shock. The sergeant looked up in horror as his eyes met his sister's; they both knew how this was going to end.

"I'm sorry…." Her voice barely louder than a whisper as tears began to streak down her face. "You'll…have to go…on without me…."

"Just save your breath Sarah…. I'll…I'll think of something! I'm not going to lose you too…." He felt tears begin to sting his eyes as he held his dying twin against him. "You're all I have left…"

"Doesn't look like…..I have a choice….." She spoke again, this time her voice at a murmur.

Howard looked up into the fading color of his sister's eyes. He could see the life behind them beginning to fade as her eyelids flickered back and forth.

"J-just stop we're getting out of here….."

Sarah coughed up a fresh glob of blood, as the dark crimson fluid began to flow down her chin.

"I…don't think…that's going…to happen…" She gasped out.

She reached out a blood soaked hand toward his face, as she brushed her fingers against his cheek as small streaks of her blood rubbed off on him. A weak smile played across her blood stained lips as her eyelids flickered close. "There's…a reason…you'll go on…just…never doubt…that…I…love…you.. Make…the…right..choice..Matt…" With one quiet breath, her head fell back as she her whole body went limp in his arms. Thunderous explosions rocked the corridor, as he held his dead sister in his arms. He buried his head into her still shoulders as the sounds of gunfire, explosions, and screams echoed all about, as his world seemingly collapsed all around him. The steel supports near him let out a loud squeal, as they began to buckle under the strain from the assault outside, before they toppled down upon him.

* * *

"Howard, Howard. Wake up."

The voice shook the Enclave sergeant from his nightmare. He found himself on the squad vertibird with his armor clad leader standing over him, his other two squad members seemed to be too busy conversing to pay the others any mind.

"Howard, you need to stay awake. We need you prepped for this op. Understand?"

Whitney spoke through the helm, as his voice came out deeper and more mechanical than human.

Howard nodded silently, before flashing his CO a thumbs up signal.

The major seemed to linger before him for hours before relenting and returning to his seat. Silence settled over the cramped quarters of Omega squads vertibird once again, as the squad's weapon's master withdrew into his armor once again.

* * *

Sentinel Lyons looked at the man stunned. "How do you know my name?"

The stranger pulled up the right sleeve of his shirt, as he revealed a faded and roughly drawn Brotherhood tattoo. Sarah's eyes widen as she recognized the tattoo and the face of the stranger before her. "It can't be….. Paladin Ashur?"

The man smiled as he pulled his sleeve down. Sarah felt herself smile until it hurt upon seeing the once thought dead paladin again.

"I can't believe it, looks like little Lyons is all grown up now." Ashur sighed and shook his head. "Wish we could have met under better circumstances though."

Ashur had been in charge of keeping Sarah safe during her father's expedition out east. During that time, she considered him to be her best friend, all until the Scourge occurred in Pittsburgh.

"My father said you were dead."

Ashur snorted at that. "Ha, dead? No, given a concussion and a few broken ribs? Yes."

Sarah shook her head in disbelief, this was so much to take in. "I have so many questions…."

A small grin spread across Ashur's face. As Sarah looked closer at him she noticed a few purple and blue bruises obscuring his features. "You and me both. Fortunately, we have plenty of time to catch up." He said as he gestured to the room they were trapped in. "Seeing as how we are a little stuck at this moment."

Sarah nodded, as she sat against the ancient concrete wall behind her. She noticed her wounds from earlier didn't seem to hurt as much now, so that was some compensation she guessed. "Where do I even begin…"

* * *

Scribe Peabody worked feverishly on the newest Tesla Cannon prototype in the labs of the Citadel. Despite his best attempts, the kick back on the cannon was too much for anyone not wearing power armor; not to mention the electrical feedback would bake anyone foolish enough to fire the thing without protection on. Tightening one last bolt on the compression chamber, he signaled for his tester to take up the weapon.

"Alright Paladin Danse, now be careful. These types of things get tricky when you swap and switch around the parts."

"Sir, with all due respect, is it safe to discharge this weapon? I don't want to risk damaging the Citadel, and the armory is on the other side of here." The young paladin responded.

Peabody chuckled and waved his hand, dismissing the Danse's worries. "Oh it's quite alright, the Tesla Cannon only emits amplified electrical conducts, nothing that can penetrate these walls. Now come on, don't leave an old man waiting."

Danse gave a nod as he pointed the weapon towards the target. A low whine began to emit from the weapon before a blinding flash of lethal electricity leapt from the weapon. The amplified burst of electricity vaporized the dummy target, and proceeded to impact on the wall behind it. Danse was nearly knocked off his feet, even with his armor on the blast generated a massive amount of kickback. A deafening crackle filled the air; no doubt drawing the attention of the others present in the lab. Slowly, but surely, the electric swirls of energy began to dissipate, in its place was now a large recently formed hole that went straight into the armory.

Danse was at a loss for words, as he slowly lowered the weapon.

"Oh…well…that was unexpected…" The scribe muttered.

"Knight Captain Durga won't be happy with this…." Danse replied.

Peabody moaned at that.

"Oh, don't remind me. She'll be filing complaints for months now…."

"What exactly is going on here?"

The two whirled about and found the rather amused looking Rothchild looking at them.

"H-Head Scribe Rothchild I was just testing the new prototype…"

"Oh, it's quite all right Peabody," The elder scribe chuckled and tried to dismiss the man's apology.

"I'm not the one who has to explain this to our quartermaster." Rothchild said humorously as he gestured to the hole in the wall. Peabody seemingly balked at that, as the thoughts of such an encounter nearly made him pale.

"Besides that," Rothchild started, as he moved to change to topic. "Paladin Danse, Elder Lyons wishes to see you. You have a new assignment awaiting you."

Danse seemed to be confused, as he fidgeted between dropping the weapon and saluting Rothchild. The Head scribe sighed and waved him off.

"At ease paladin, secure that weapon and double time it to the elder. I'll help Peabody deal with this mess."

Danse seemed to relax at the scribe's words as he nodded and gave a simple 'yes sir' before placing the weapon down and rushing off to see the Elder.

Peabody sighed as he gripped what little hair he had on his head, as he gazed at the 5 foot wide hole his latest work had done to the Citadel.

"Relax Gregory, with your line of work this was happening sooner or later." Reginald spoke, trying to calm his fellow scribe. Peabody shot him an evil glare for using his real name, before sighing in defeat.

"Besides, I have a job for you. What do you think about performing some field work?"

This last part seemed to shake the scribe from his stupor, as he looked to his superior. As a smile stretched across his face. Rothchild couldn't help but grin, long had he heard the younger man complain about being stuck in these labs day in and day out. Now was the time to get some field work done, and he knew just the thing.

"What exactly do you want me to do?"

* * *

The familiar sensation of wind blowing across his face awoke John. With a groan he staggered back to his feet, only to smack his head on something hard above him.

"Mother..." He muttered slightly. He was forced to crouch down to avoid hitting his head once more, as he pressed a button on his Pipboy. A piercing green light broke through the darkness, as he found himself inside a concrete pipe. _How in the world?_ He looked behind him just to make sure and found the same sickly orange river he had fallen into only just moments ago. He checked the gauge on his Pipboy and found that his rad levels had dropped down to six hundred. That can't be right. He checked the time and found that only ten minutes had passed since his scaling of the bridge and now. What could of change in those ten minutes? Just minutes ago he felt himself being boiled alive by the radiation, now here he was good as new. He pushed those puzzling thoughts aside and set about

He did a quick inventory check and was disgruntled to find he had lost the shotgun that he had taken from the dead ghoul. _Dammit._ Here he was unarmed again. He sighed and reached for his holstered 10mm. It was empty from his earlier encounter, but if nothing he could pistol whip some poor soul to death. He pulled on the map, and to his surprise found that this pipe had a direct connection into the city. Unfortunately, it also led into one place he didn't want to go unarmed; the steelyard. _Well, in retrospect this isn't the most dangerous thing I've done_. As he began his trek into the darkness beyond, something metal clattered across the stony bottom of the pipe. Curious, John investigated and was relieved to find his trench knife on the ground before him.

"Well, at least I'm not completely unarmed." He mumbled as he retrieved the knife. With his meager equipment now gathered, The Lone Wanderer proceeded on into the darkness before him. He found his thoughts straying to a certain Brotherhood Sentinel. _Hold on Sarah, I'm coming._

* * *

Brimstone and hellfire. That's all that Cyrus saw before him as he overlooked the final stages. He stood upon the balcony overlooking the rest lower Haven, as his knights and squires kept eyes on the numerous slaves both from the catwalk and on the ground below. A plastered smile spread across his face, as he watched to columns of slave's load ingot, after ingot into waiting supply trucks. His dream project, the weapon that would take back the west from the menace of the west was nearing completion. After nearly eighty years of work, it was nearly complete. It awaited him only a few short hours from this hell hole; it's first flight would occur soon. Cyrus could help but think of how excited his wife would be if she were here now, their idea of a perfect world was nearly complete.

 _Soon, Vanessa…soon I will take back our dream…_

"General?" An unsure voice shook him from his thoughts.

The Midwest native turns about and finds his second in command, Paladin Lord Garnet, behind him. She stood at attention in her battle worn power armor, the same her mother had worn decades ago. Her aged face was concealed behind the rustic armor, as she waited for Cyrus' to grant her permission to continue. Cyrus gestured with his hand as he returned his gaze down to the workers below.

"At ease soldier. How is our progress?"

The aged paladin nodded and relaxed slightly as she began to rattle off status reports.

"One of our patrols has not returned from the bridge, but the gate guards have not seen anyone in the vicinity, though they said that the bridge has sustained a severe amount of damage. If anything sir, that means any force coming from the train yard will have a hard time crossing the gap, and that if there were any more of those 'Brotherhood' agents, they might have been taken out by that explosion."

Cyrus nodded, obviously bored with this news of the attackers. He knew the strength behind a solid squad, but whatever branch of the Brotherhood this Sentinel Lyons had come from was obviously not well trained; they had easily captured her after all and all the weapons with her.

"Yes, yes I understand that, but how long until we can pack up and move? I want to get back to the real fight as quick as possible."

Cyrus stated, as his hands gripped the railing in front of him tightly.

The general heard the woman behind him shift uneasily, as the metallic parts of her armor clanged as she shifted her posture. "Yes sir, we have at least another day before we can head out. We could shift some of our forces into the supply process and perhaps finish within twelve hours, but we risk the slaves getting out of hand. Also, the scribes are suggesting we prep the bomb for detonation, but they wanted to run this by you before they did so."

Cyrus took all this information in, as the sickly black soot and ash from the chimneys above swirled about. There was a moment of silence as the venerable aged man stood there, calculating outcomes, risk factors, and formulating a conclusion. Right as Garnet was about to ask again, Cyrus straighten himself and responded.

"Take a quarter of the guard force and put them to work. Start with the mutants, then work up to the squires. Tell the scribes to ready the bomb, but only let our ghouls handle that. Also, any slaves stop working or get out of hand kill them; remove them from the others before they do first. If everything works out, we'll be out of here within eighteen hours."

The Paladin Lord turned to make her exit before stopping. "What about the prisoner's sir?"

Cyrus smiled slightly, as he looked to the sickly sky above.

"We'll take them with us. They'll make excellent recruits for our final campaign."

* * *

 **Author Notes: I'm in the works with the next chapter, and will hopefully have some action for you folks next time. Please leave a review, and give me your feedback. I'm going to do my best to update constantly, but I can't make any promises right now. Thanks again, and until next time!**


	20. Set the Table

**Author Notes: Hi all, sorry for being gone so long. I have just finished my two years of collage, and I'm currently trying to figure out what come next. Anyways, this chapter is my longest yet I believe and I'm hoping to wrap up the Pitt Arc in my next two chapters, which I plain on solely focusing on our two protagonists. This story is a first for me in many reguards, as I have never written a collection of stories this... connected before. I have Chapter 21 at about 25% done so I'm shooting to have that up by mid August. Anyways, enough yammering enjoy This next Chapter. :)**

* * *

To say he was nervous was an understatement. As he stood outside the Elders quarters, Danse was curious about why Lyons would call upon such a young paladin for a direct assignment. As far as he knew, there were no more threats to be handled; the Wanderer had basically done their job for them over the past year and a half. So deep was Danse in his thoughts, that he hadn't recognized that the elder had open the door and ask him to come in.

"Danse, you may enter." Lyon's repeated, there was an amused tone to his voice as he spoke.

Danse was quick to respond, as he clumsily squeezed through the door frame to enter the room.

As he did so, he found Elder Lyons sitting before his terminal, his fingers delicately typed on the on the keyboard. Just as one would find a child prodding curiosity, so too did the elder type; one key at a time, trying his best to work despite the bulky gauntlets of his armor. Danse had heard the rumors about Elder Lyons, hell everyone in the Citadel knew now, but to actually see it with his own eyes was something else. Elder Lyons had been the guiding hand behind the Brotherhood for years, all the way back to when Danse was just a scavenger, and to imagine a future where he wasn't in command was…. worrying to say the least.

"Paladin Danse, reporting for duty, sir."

"At ease Danse. No need for formalities here, it's just the two of us."

The elder replied, his attention still remained on typing. Danse shifted uneasy, as the only noise in the room was that of clicking of a keyboard for a long moment. He decided to make use of his time, and began to study the elder's appearance. He had heard rumors of this new attempt to prolong the elder's life, but he could scarcely believe those murmurs until now. Lyon's seemed tired, his eyes droopy and his face devoid of color. It was no wonder why he hadn't been seen outside his quarters, he was just a few shades of color away from sharing the same complexion a corpse. Danse was surprised he a was even functioning at the moment, as just merely typing on the terminal seemed to be talking all of his energy, yet there hadn't been a trace of that within the elderly man's voice. This uncomfortable silence lingered for a few moments more, before Elder Lyon's let out a sigh and his hands withdrew away from the keyboard. He paused for a moment to swipe at his eyes, before turning towards Danse; the servos of his suit still humming in response to his movements.

"Sorry about that Danse, seems this line of work is all I'm good for now." Lyons let out a chuckle as he attempted to stand from his chair. Even with the support of the armor, even this mundane task was difficult. Danse rushed to help the older man, as he nearly tripped over the bed doing so. His armored gauntlet's latched onto the metallic shell of the elder's armor as the younger man guided his leader to the bed.

"Thank you Danse,"

"Anytime, sir."

The sickly elder gave him a genuine smile, as he waved his hands off.

"Now Danse, I'm sure you are wondering why I called you here."

The paladin responded quickly, his eagerness for his first real assignment was obvious.

"Yes sir."

Lyons chuckled at the younger man. He extended his arm out to grasp glass of water from the small tray by his bedside.

"Very well. Your assignment I've giving you, is to form a new elite team. We have the Pride, but…. they aren't the same unit they used to be."

Danse was at first stunned by the elder's words. It took close to a solid minute before the order fully hit him.

"You want me to remake Lyons' Pride sir?"

Lyons only shook his head, as he took a hefty gulp from his glass.

"No, not at all Danse. I suppose a further explanation is required"

Danse nodded, as he stood silently, awaiting the Elder's explanation.

"We need more field operation groups, Danse. The Capital is changing and, if we want to remain relevant, we have to change as well. The reason I chose you, is because you were born in the wastes. You're a native to these parts, you know what these people have gone through, and with all of these recent developments we need the people to trust us. Your fellow brothers and sisters have been fighting for years now, but eventually they will grow old and weak just as I have. We are going to need the fellow people of the Capital to support our establishment, but for that to happen we need their trust. We need to increase our presence within the Capital, but need to solidify the trust of the people. Do you understand now?"

Danse looked at Lyons' for a moment, as he stood there trying to process this information. From what he was hearing, it appeared that the elder was attempting to lay down the start of the next era of the Brotherhood. It made perfect sense of course. They had been having these summit talks fairly often, but each of the towns seemed to be so divided and the Brotherhood operating as a mediator wasn't solving anything. If any progress was to be made, they would integrate themselves with the capital rather than making the capital integrate with them. Danse's response should have been obvious, this was the best course of action for the future of the Capital.

"I…understand sir. When do I begin?"

Lyon's smiled slightly, as he placed a sheet of paper on his tray and slid it towards the paladin.

"Right now."

Danse took the sheet and brought it up to read it. It was list of names, but Danse did not recognize any of the ones listed here. He lowered the paper to question the elder on this, but Lyons was already onto him.

"I know, it's all our new initiates. You can obtain their files from Scribe Jameson. Pick five of them, I'll leave the rest up to you."

Danse nodded as he folded the list of names and tucked it into the fold of his shoulder plate.

"It'll be done, sir."

"I know it will. You have great potential within you Danse, I can see that. You are dismissed."

* * *

Guided only by the faint glow of his pipboy, John slogged through the barely manageable room within the pipes. The smell of stagnant water, and whatever foul things had laid dormant here, caused his face to contort in disgust. Still he pushed on, as he kept track of his location only with the map of the Pipboy on his arm. He quickly stopped, as a faint breeze floated past him. He focused on; the faintest remnants of voices could be heard from up ahead. Without much to lose, John quicken his venture as best he could. He was nearing the Steelyard, so perhaps he could find an exit here. The cramped pipeline began to open up, as the Wanderer heard the sounds of voices amplify as he approached a new section. He quickly halted himself, as he found those voices from earlier weren't as far off as he thought.

"- I just don't understand what the general's thinking, you know?"

"Yea, I mean, why would anyone be running down here? Those…things completely cover the rest of the pipe way, and entering from the other way is impossible."

"Maybe he's finally lost it."

"Ha, you better not get say that around Garnet, she'll rip your damn throat out. How old is the guy anyways? He has to be pushing seventy at least."

"I'm not sure, there's rumors that the general lead that group that seized Vault Zero."

"What? That was like… eighty years ago!"

"I know right? That's nuts."

John quickly dimmed the light, as he let out a quiet sigh. There was always some poor idiot standing in his way. He squeezed his favored knife tightly in his palm, as the metallic grip dug into his palm. He cautiously looked out towards the source of the voices, trying to get a look at their get up. It was two men, or at least he thought so, they wore a gas masks and fully covered body armor. Their weapons were energy based from the look of it, but whereas laser rifles had a short metal frame and bulky, these ones were long barreled and slender. They seemed relaxed for the time being. Apparently, someone had gone and turned this section of the sewers into an improvised checkpoint. The two dimwits stood guard behind a cluster of sandbags on an elevated ramp above the apparent ankle deep sewer water, a small trash fire burned behind them as it provided dim illumination for the surrounding area. John's goal was right behind them, as a rusted and worn ladder, to what John presumed was the Steelyard, hung at an angle. A small grin crossed his features as the Wanderer focused his attention on the lone flood light. He recalled Ashur had set up a string of these lights along the perimeter of the city to keep the troggs out of the area, so perhaps if he shut just one of these off he'd have his distraction to make a break for the steel mill. There was an issue with that plan though, he had no idea how many guards were above him right this moment, nor was he properly equipped for a firefight. He scowled and shook his head. Melee combat wasn't his preferred way of killing, but he didn't have any choice. Without delay, John proceeded towards the pair; trench knife in hand as he calmly moved through the ankle deep water.

Thankfully, the humming of the floodlights covered up his approach as he closed in on the closest guard. The man's back as turned towards the sandbags, as his companion was now sitting opposite of him against the stone wall. The Wanderer crept up as he gripped his knife tightly. John had done this maneuver many times before, many times in fact, but he had to remain focused; failing to kill even just one of the men quick enough would most certainly make his progress into the city even harder. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, before leaping into action. His left hand came up and grabbed the man by his mask, as the right hand traveled up and plunged the knife into the stunned guards neck. John's first target put up little resistance, as by the time he had realized what was occurring the knife had already made it's mark.

With the first man down, John leapt over the sand bags just as the man's body began to hit the ground. His companion scrambled for the discarded weapon off to his side, but John was already upon him before his fingers had even brushed against the grip of the gun. The remaining guard attempted to scream, but as the words began to leave his lips John stopped him. His hands moved quick as he clamped the man's mouth shut before dragging the stained blade across the man's throat. The man let out a few gurgles behind John's gloved hand, as fresh blood began to flow from his mouth. The surviving guard's body went limp soon after, as the blood of the two victims began to trickle into the sewer water. Their attacker scowled, as his hands were now coated in their blood.

 _Just another casualty of the 'good fight'._

John tried to reassure himself.

He disliked having to kill other humans. Talon Company, Enclave, and raiders were scum, and he massacred them without hesitation; though some of the newbie recruits for the Talon's he had spared when they weren't shooting for him. Yes, they were his enemies, but he always wandered if his father would have approved. He'd have to leave their bodies here as well, and no doubt they would lay here rotting. John quickly banished such thoughts from his mind. Of course, his father would have understood; this was all for the greater good. Not wanting to linger among the dead any longer, John checked them for ammunition before moving on. He slung one of the laser rifles over his shoulder, and pocketed a few energy cells' before proceeding up the ladder. He was unsure of what awaited him above, but he was damn sure that whatever it was, it wasn't going to be friendly towards him.

* * *

Laying out a hand drawn map of the Capital Wasteland onto the weathered and battered wooden surface, Burke looked up from the improvised war table, as three of Talon companies highest ranked officers surrounding it.

"Gentlemen, please, take your seats."

An exchange of menacing glares was shared between the trio before they finally sat down. Commander Jabsco sat in front, his eyes narrowing at Burke as if he was attempting to kill him through with his mind. A large, bald, and scarred man sat off to Burke's right, Lieutenant Commander Stone. Burke had seen his file appear only a few months ago, but from what he understood, Stone was one of the few individuals he knew that preferred hand to hand over the typically ranged weaponry used by most Talon Company grunts. His most notable feature though, was the jagged scar around his neck, which perhaps explained the reason he had not said a word during the introductions. The third man to Burke's left was an unknown even to Burke; who had only even known of the man's existence just moments ago. Ensign Cole was his name, and despite his rank, Burke had not seen or heard anything about this man except that he had jumped up through the ranks only weeks ago.

The man was old, as numerous streaks of white and gray lined his short cut hair. He had a firm jawline, an average build, a set of piercing brown eyes, and a single pale scar streaked from his left eyebrow upwards before disappearing into his silvery hair. Burke noticed that this man seemed to be the only one that wasn't giving him a death stare. The man's eye pierced him, as if he was looking right into him; peering inside his very soul. Despite dealing with numerous murderer's and psychopaths in the wastes, this man was disturbed him. The was something about this man that he didn't understand, perhaps never could understand, but he had the eyes of a skilled killer but none of the malice or blood craze behind those eyes. Burke felt a faint chill crawl up his spine, something he had not felt in years, as the ensign simply gave a curious stare. Burke was wondering what he had done, when he realized he had been staring at the man for some time, as he heard Jabsco clear his throat.

"Is there an issue Burke?"

The well-dressed man steeled himself, as he smoothed off the invisible wrinkles off the map, as he attempted to block the strange man out.

"Of course not, just reviewing the information."

Jabsco smirked slightly, before leaning back in his chair. Burke felt a small amount of irritation build, but quickly put that aside. Let Jabsco have his smug moments, neither he or his petty group was long for this world anyways. A small twisted smile formed upon Burke's face, before molding back into his same blank expression. The Talon Company leader didn't even notice, as he gave sarcastic reply.

"If you say so."

Burke glanced down to the map. It was as detailed as a map as one could get, as Burke had pain staking labeled each of the major towns of the wasteland, the caravan routes, rest stops, and even Brotherhood patrol routes. The last part had been difficult due to how sporadic their movements had been, but he felt confident that he had them pinned down now.

"As you can obviously tell, this here is a map of the Capital wasteland. I've gone and collected trade routes, outposts, and even the Brotherhood's very own force movements. It's taken months, but I have found a few spots where we can strike without fearing retaliation. I've already spoken to your commander about this, so I will share this with you now. We will bring down the Brotherhood of Steel, and own the water trade. Then Talon Company will own the water trade for the wastes."

A rough and irritated sounding voice grumbled something Burke didn't make out. He looked up at Jabsco with a look of interest.

"Something he'd like to share?"

The lifetime mercenary looked to Stone for a moment before looking back at Burke.

"He said he's in."

The Enclave spy gave him a look of skepticism, resulting in Jabsco glaring back at him.

"He's not the talkative type. Get on with it."

Burke flashed a small grin as he looked back down at the map. He enjoyed trying Jabsco's pertinence, because he knew the man would put up with it so long as the pay was worth it. Not wanting to waste another moment, Burke returned his attention to the map, as he circled his finger around the area where Paradise Falls once was.

"That slaver outpost that got wiped out hasn't been touched since. People think that it's haunted ever since the Wanderer passed through there. I suggest we move a squad in here, and strike the caravans as they pass onto Little Lamplight."

Burke's finger then crossed to the other side of the map to a seemingly empty spot just below Canterbury Commons.

"Now, you may not know about this place, but some former slaves had built a compound in this area here. A pack of raiders took up using it as a base, but as mentioned before, the Wanderer kindly removed them from the area just recently. Another squad should be placed here to strike at the Canterbury caravans. Now pay attention, this last one is the key to accomplish the end goal."

His palm pressed down on the circled area of Megaton. As his gaze traveled up from the map again.

"Megaton is the key to this, but it also represents a very real threat. Megaton is the closest settlement to the Citadel, and the second most well defended area in the wasteland. Not to mention that I have heard reports that the Wanderer himself has residence there."

"You mean you don't know for sure, Burke?" Jabsco replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You must be losing your touch."

"Well, I can only speculate. You should be used to not knowing commander, after all you probably don't even know how many men you have on your payroll currently. Do you?"

A low growl from Jabsco was the only response, as Burke looked back down at the table.

"I thought not."

"Excuse me."

A firm, but gentle voice spoke up. As Burke gazed up to see who had spoken, he found that it was Ensign Cole. Burke was not prepared for his, as he felt the man's dark eyes look upon him.

"Yes ensign?" He said, trying his best not to stutter.

"This, Wanderer, that you mention how dangerous do you think he is? Surely, he can't be that great of a threat."

Burke's eye twitched behind his shades, as he observed the rather calm and bored body language of the man before him. Jabsco seemed dumbfounded as well, as the commander had completely turned himself in the ensign's direction; his mouth agape as if he could not believe what he was hearing. Stone, obviously, remained silent but the wild look in his eyes showed his disbelief as well. The ensign looked at the three other man in the room as if he was unsure what all the commotion was about, as he calmly awaited a response.

"You haven't heard of the 'Lone Wanderer'?"

Cole snorted, in the typical arrogant attitude that seemed to popular for Talon mercs, as he looked between the three men in the room.

"Oh, I'm familiar with him. I just don't see what all the commotion is about. Everyone speaks of him as if he were some divine being, a Paragon of the Wastes of sorts. I've even heard the ridiculous radio host hail him as 'The Last Best Hope for Humanity'. This bravado is rather, well, foolish. He's just a single man, nothing more nothing less."

Burke looked from the rather aged ensign back to Jabsco. His facial expression made it clear that he was dumbfounded by what he had just heard, and judging by the commander's blank stare, he assumed the feeling was mutual. They both had heard the boisterous claims of young raiders or mercs about being the one to end the Wanderer, though all of which ended up either traumatized or in early graves. Jabsco himself has seen his ranks be thoroughly wiped out as he sent wave after wave of squads against this single man, only to have nothing to show for it. Silence reigns in the meeting room, as Burke finds himself at a loss for words. The effect didn't linger long, as he quickly got a hold of himself.

"Well, ensign. If you're so confident, then I'll appoint you in charge of leading the Megaton raiding group. Assuming that's alright with your commander."

That comment seemed to bring Jabsco to his senses. The Talon Company Commander only shook his head and rubbed his forehead with his hand.

"Sure, why the hell not."

Cole nodded, seemingly satisfied as he went back to holding his blank expression.

"I'm looking forward to it."

Burke smiled wickedly, as he turned back to Jabsco.

"Ah, so does that mean that this plan is to your liking?"

Jabsco looked up, wearing the defeated look that Burke had assumed he would wear, as he slowly nodded.

"It's not like I have anything else to lose." He stopped his nodding and narrowed his eyes, as the anger from earlier reemerged. "But don't fuck this up Burke. Or else."

Burke snorted and shook his head. "Not to be rude, commander. But it's not like your situation can get any worse, now. Can it?"

* * *

Hal hated his job. That was just saying it lightly. He was damn Knight Captain, he should have been out there barking orders and directing the others outside, not stuck in some basement dealing with a couple of rejects. Ashur had been an ass to him during his entire captivity, and the new girl was apparently taking after him. If he had it his way they both would have been tossed off the bridge or hung, but the general had been insistent that they remain alive; for what reason he didn't have a damn clue. Worst of all still, was that the general had been insistent that he return to his position and remain there until their mission was complete. He traded the casual nod as he passed his fellow brothers in arms, as he made his way back to the holding area.

His handgun clattered annoyingly against the hip plate of his combat armor, but he had long since given up on correcting that issue. At least they only had a day left in this joint, then they could blow it sky high and focus their attention on the real enemy back out west. He passed by the large metal door to the basement of the mill, as usual, there wasn't a single guard around; general had ordered that their work detail be increased two fold so they were having to work skeleton crews now. Hal wasn't really concerned, Ashur was too weak to put up too much of a fight, and he doubted the blonde would put up much of a fight. He came into that darkened hall again, as he passed the desolate office rooms until he reached his position at the end of the hallway. Grunting, he leaned against the wall and glared angrily back at the only entrance to the room. It didn't take long before he heard strange sounds coming from behind the door. He pressed his ear against the door and tried to focus on the commotion, swearing silently that whoever had designed this door had failed incorporate a proper peephole.

Not wanting to worry himself with the issue any longer, he stepped away from his charge and returned to his chair. It wasn't long before he heard another sound, it was louder this time, and sounded like glass being shattered. An alarm bell went off inside Hal's head. If those two had broken the lights, they could use the glass as weapons…or worse take their own lives. The reluctant jailer tried to calm himself, but recalled how demanding the general had been on keeping those two alive. Oh just my fucking luck, Hal swore to himself as he grabbed his handgun and rushed in the room. As the ancient door squealed open, the knight captain soon realized he had made a grave mistake. The room was pitch black, and besides the occasional dripping of water, it was absolutely silent.

"Both of you! Get the fuck out here! Right where I can see you!"

Hal began yelling, as he waved his weapon frantically at the darkness. He thought about rushing upstairs for help, but by the time he could get back he may have been too late. Not to mention the flak he'd catch for abandoning his post, or if either of the prisoners perished. If Hal hadn't been so engulfed in his thoughts, he may have heard the quiet patter of footsteps off to his side, but instead he felt something hard crack against the right side of his head as his body suddenly got heavy. Pain slammed into his temple soon after, and before he even hit the floor Hal was out.

* * *

Sarah swung her elbow into the man's temple as hard as she could, and was rewarded with a satisfying 'crack' as he dropped to the ground like a bag of wet cement. Ashur was quick to catch the body and pulled it off to the side while Sarah slowly shut the door to their cell. She was careful just to leave it creaked ever so slightly, so as not to prevent their soon to occur escape and to give them enough light to see one another. Ashur tossed her the jailer's side arm, allowing her to give it a quick once over. She let out a low whistle as she found herself holding a 14mm that was in surprisingly good condition. She hit the clip release and was relieved to find it was indeed a full magazine; six shots in all. Sarah slide it back in and cocked the weapon, as the first round of the clip slide into the chamber. These were highly coveted weapons back out in the west, but how the hell did one end up here? She put the question aside and looked up at Ashur,

"Alright, so we got to phase one. What's phase two?"

Sarah asked, the anxiety in her voice clearly heard. How could she not be nervous? Sure she had handled being outnumbered and outgunned before, but she always had her squad at her back; not to mention heavy weaponry and power armor. Now she had none of that, just a single sidearm, a suit of combat armor, and an aged paladin that was worse for wear.

"Still working on it," Ashur paused as he searched through the fallen guard's pockets, searching for anything else of value. "I'll let you know when I figure it out."

"Well try to hurry the hell up. I still don't know what the rotation here is."

The elder paladin sighs as he begins to strip the man of his armor.

"Well, typically there were at least two other men down here, but I don't see any now. Either these guys are slacking, or…."

"Something has caused them to change tactics."

"Exactly."

A full fifteen seconds of passed between the two, as both began to postulate about their new situation before Sarah broke it.

"What does that mean for us?"

"Hell if I know, but let's not sit around while we think about it."

Ashur tossed the man's armor towards Sarah, before taking a small pocket knife he had found in their jailer's pocket.

"Put it on. I'm too busted up right now to help out. If we could just find our gear, we just might make it out of here."

Without hesitating, Sarah did as she was instructed. It wasn't as good as the armor John had given to her, but at least it was better than her now tattered recon armor. The pair took a moment to equip themselves before exiting their cell, leaving their now shamed jailer drooling on the floor. Sarah brushed her hand along the steel grip of the weapon, as she crouched with her new handgun raised; prepared to open fire if anyone dared enter through the door on the opposite side of them. The two warriors were silent, as they strained their ears in an attempt to detect anyone unwanted guests. Sarah was the first to speak up, as her finger remained off to the side of the trigger.

"You should take lead; I don't know my way around here. Where did you typically store everything?"

Ashur is quiet for a moment, as he takes a moment to formulate an answer.

"Well, we have an armory that we kept in Upper Haven, but they torched that place when they moved in. If I had to guess, it would be over by the fighting pit. We just have to go up a level, and down a hallway. With any luck our stuff should be there."

Sarah flashed her former protector a grin as she looked back at him

"Alright old man, lead the way."

* * *

 _Autumn._ He had heard that name somewhere. It sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it. Whenever he thought of his name, that word always seemed to come to mind. He knew that word, or he did at one point in his life, but not anymore. He feels himself drifting in a sea of blackness, stuck in some dream like state, but this was no dream; the agonizing pain that pulsed within him reminded him of that constantly. He couldn't recall how he got to this place, or what this place even was. It was all…confusing. Whenever he wasn't being driven mad by agony, he was questioning where he was. At times he could feel something holding him down-typically during his throes of suffering- and at other times he felt free. He felt as if fire was coursing through his veins, as he often felt his body burning with unnatural warmth, yet that was a strange comfort here in this nonexistent void. It let him know he was alive, even if he didn't know anything else, he could at least hold onto that tad bit of knowledge. Maybe he would wake up soon. He just wanted the pain to end.

* * *

 **Authors Notes: Thanks again for the read you guys I really do appreciate it. I hope you've enjoyed the story, and please leave a review and give me your feedback. Let me know if I'm progressing too slow or too fast, or any issues you have with the story. Hope to see you guys soon with a new chapter, thanks again!  
**


	21. Home Stretch

**Author Notes: I'm back! I apologize for the long absence, but life hit me rather hard in the last few months, not to mention writers block. Anyway,s here is chapter 21, hoping to wrap this whole arc up within the next two chapters. Enjoy!**

* * *

John pressed his back up tightly against a wall, as he heard the slow cautionary footsteps of a guard. The vault dweller clenched his knife tightly in his hand, as he closed his eyes and braced himself to attack. The footsteps only seemed to come closer, and John prepared himself to take yet another life. To John's great relief, a loud voice, distorted by power armor by the sound of it, stopped the man in his tracks.

"Initiate, get your ass back in formation!"

A booming mechanical voice barked out, bringing the nearby footsteps to a halt.

"But commander I-"

"Are you sassing me initiate? Get your ass over here, now!"

The apparent commander demanded, as the cautionary soldier from only a few moments ago broke into a hasty retreat.

John let out a sigh, as he holstered the knife back into the strap on his thigh, and peered around the corner. He caught the fading silhouettes of the recent patrol, and took that as his chance to move forward. Crouching up against one of the many empty crates in the Steelyard, John referred back to his trusty wrist computer for the umpteenth time today. He found the military presence here disturbing to say the least, as it seemed nearly all of the Troggs and wild-men had been taken care of. It was an impressive feat to be sure, but from what John had seen firsthand, whoever these guys were didn't come here to make friends. The vault dweller checked his position once more, and seeing all was well, began to fiddle with the device. John's prototype armor had one last surprise he hadn't told Sarah, it had a miniature tracking device within the armor overlays. The device only worked as a basic tracking beacon, and based on what John's map was showing, Sarah was somewhere in the Steel Mill. He lowered his Pipboy and moved to the edge of his cover. Peeking his head just above his makeshift hiding spot, John eyed the shadow of the Steel Mill in the distance. It wasn't too far, perhaps a few minutes of running and he'd be there. There was one thing that concerned him though; it seemed as if this invading force was packing everything up now. Why though? It seemed that they were well entrenched here, not to mention the effort they must have had gone through to deal with the mutated locals; after all that they were just going to pack it all up and leave? John dismissed the storm of theories, his first goal was to find Sarah and Ashur, then he would go from there.

 _One objective at a time_.

He reminded himself, before moving towards the next bit of cover he could find. One way or another he wasn't leaving until he found his friends.

* * *

Sarah peered her head around the corridor and scowled. She pulled back and turned to her newly freed companion.

"Still nothing. Where are all the guards?"

Ashur shook his head and moved pass Sarah. The gray-haired paladin motioned her around the corner, as he crept forward.

"It doesn't make sense; this place was crawling with them when they dragged me down here."

Sarah muttered, as she pressed her back against the hard corner, and peered her head just around to edge; her honed eyes searching for hostiles. Yet, there still wasn't a soul in sight down here. Lyons signaled back the 'all clear' sign to Ashur, and the two started their sweep of the next hall once more. This hallway was much like the others, desolate and lit only by trashcan fires. Sarah recognized the stone staircase at the end of the hall as the same one they had brought her down by. Before she could move towards it though, Ashur stopped dead in his tracks, before quickly moving towards a door about halfway down the hall. Sarah scowled at the unnecessary noise the older man created, but took up the rear regardless. Upon reaching the door in question, Ashur began to fumble with the set of keys they had acquired. Sarah's eyebrow twitched as the jingling keys would no doubt be heard all about this floor now.

"Asher, what the hell are you doing?"

He only smiled, and upon finding the correct key, he gave a reply.

"Raiding the armory, what else?"

Without a second to lose, Ashur unlocked the door and pushed it open. The 'Armory' as not nearly as well stocked as Sarah had hoped. A few ammo cases were stacked up against the near side wall with their ammo types listed on a few ragged pieces of tape. In the center of the room, a small table in the center of the room had John's duffle bag laid out upon it, with some of its contents scattered about. Then on the far side appeared to be lockers, hopefully with some heavier ordinance within it, but besides that this room seemed rather lacking. The two began combing the room for armament immediately, after carefully locking the armory door once again, but there wasn't much to work with here. Ashur seemed distraught that his personal items were not accounted for, but Sarah was happy to find a semi functional hunting rifle and a fully loaded 10mm handgun.

The biggest find was the cluster of grenades John had stowed in the bag, as well as a few spare clips of ammo, and the shotgun Sarah had loaned from John. There was also a strange device that, at least to Sarah, resembled a detonator of some sort. Sarah had to convince Ashur to take the rifle, but the man's stubbornness nearly won out. The bundle of grenades had six in total, four frags, and two plasma, allowing the two Brotherhood members to split them evenly. Not know what to do with the device, Sarah strapped it to the belt of her 'borrowed' combat armor. All in all, it took them a few minutes to arm themselves, but far as they could tell not a single noise came from outside. Once they felt they were ready, Sarah slid a fresh clip into the rifle and handed it to Ashur for him to inspect. She was excited, eager as well, but mostly excited. Despite having nearly no advantage in this situation, being outnumbered, and outgunned in every meaning of the word, Sarah had never felt more tested as a soldier before now. Ashur seemed to feel the same, as not a single trace of fear seemed to even resonate with the man. Sarah snatched up the combat shotgun and slide its drum magazine into place. Her fingers traced the etchings of the faded name on the stock. She looked up to Ashur, a grin forming on her face.

"You ready?"

The older man chuckled and slide back the top of the weapon.

"Just have to make one more stop."

* * *

The last of the supplies had been set up into the back of the supply transports; which was nothing more than scavenged trunks with energy cells for fuel. The beat-up vehicles lined up in a convoy, the Brotherhood's highly prized tank, a hummer, and three truck's stacked with ransacked supplies, within a few minutes, Casandra Garnet would oversee the rebuilding of the Midwestern Brotherhood. A smile played across her lips, as she finished her final check on the convoy. Whatever metals, ammunition, or food stocks they could take from The Pitt, they would. The war against the self-proclaimed 'Caesar's Legion' had gone poorly, even Cyrus had seen that the war was not on their side. Garnet nodded in satisfaction, as she finished her inspection. Her assistant, a squire in combat armor, gripped his clipboard tightly as he stood behind her.

"Ma'am, should I give the go ahead for the withdraw orders?" He asked, daring not to sound too presumptuous in his questioning.

Garnet did an about face, the servos of her power armor whirled in response, as she saw the man almost jump out of his skin as she had done that. A scowl quickly replaced her expression of happiness from just a moment ago, as her infamous reputation was being blown far out of proportion. Garnet stood silent for a moment, waiting to hear if her assistant wished to say anything else. When he did not, she spoke.

"Of course. Make the arrangements, let the convoy know I'll be leaving with the general. I'll see you at home base, squire."

Garnet barely heard the man's reply to her, as she was deep in thought as she strode by him. This city was nearly empty now, the once had over forty of their men here, now it was going to be barely a dozen after the withdraw was finished. Most of their forces had already ridden back with convoys, and the ones that hadn't were leaving with this last one. Any of the surviving slaves were, regrettably, executed due to the dangerous levels of mutation they had found in this location; something few in the order enjoyed doing.

These things were not what was troubling the paladin commander, however. Cyrus had been more ruthless in their last few conquests, where he had once believed that diplomacy and alliances were the way to go, he had begun to be more lenient in the use of violence. Garnet couldn't understand why that could be, but everything in her being told her not to fret about it. Cyrus had served by her mother's side decades ago, and he was a hardened warrior with decades of experience, surely he knew what he was doing. Even with these things supporting her viewpoint of the High General, there was a lingering doubt that remained in the back of Garnet's mind. She passed a small squad of knights and a fellow paladin, and ordered them to follow behind her; this prison transfer was going to require an escort after all. The entire facility was still now, a sharp contrast to the loud ungodly clanking that filled it from all of the slave's labor only hours ago, but somewhere in here her prisoners were here.

It wasn't their usual operating code, Garnet thought it was almost insane to leave two prisoner's so lightly guarded, but Cyrus had ordered this. Garnet and her five-man squad calmly moved down to the lower levels, but it didn't take long for the woman to realize that something was wrong. As they passed by the armory to collect the confiscated weapons of their invaders, they found that the duffel bag, along with their remaining ammunition left behind, was gone. Realizing a possible escape, Garnet rushed down to the prison area, a fury beginning to take hold of her. Her power armor hummed with every step, as the flooring almost shook under the impact of her steps.

Only her accompanying paladin was brave enough to follow her, leaving the topside under the care of a trio of knights. With a sense of urgency, the three power armored warriors advanced down the stairs, though Garnet had a good assumption on what she would find. Once her squad reached the holding cell, however, the commander lamented the fact she had been correct. The cell door was wide open, and the body of the appointed jailor laid stripped and un-moving on the floor. A thousand vulgar thoughts and insults raced throughout the Casandra's mind, so going off past experiences, the paladin commander took a moment to calm herself. Her two paladin escorts looked back at her with some concern, as they awaited their new orders with baited breath. Sadly, this went against them once their commander had regained her composure, as she now found her two most senior squad members staring at her, clueless.

"What in the fuck are you doing?"

Unable to contain her frustration, Casandra directed her anger upon the closest thing she could find; easily decimating the wall she had targeted.

"Find them! Now!"

* * *

"Major Whitley, we are entering the LZ. Setting you down on the outskirts of the target."

The voice from the cockpit stirred the major from his thoughts. Allen shifted in his power armor, before standing up and clasping onto a handhold. He switched his comms on and spoke.

"Omega Squad, get set. We are go."

All heads in the cabin turned to him, and at once they were on their feet.

"What level of force are we authorized for major?" Staples asked over the comms, as she clipped a plasma pistol onto her belt.

"Extreme, but collateral damage is to be at a minimum. We are here for a retrieval. This city is a war zone, mutants, raiders, and everything in between. Shoot first ask questions later."

There was shift within the hold, as the sounds of the Vertibird's engines switched into it's 'hover' mode. The back door of the craft opened up, as the four Enclave soldier's moved to the departure ramp. Thick black smoke began to roll into the cabin, as abomination formally known as Pittsburgh was on full display of the squad. Most of the city was coated in a with a black veil of smoke, as nearly every street in sight laid strewn with burnt out cars and collapsed buildings.

"Damn, this place looked better on the postcards." Davis joked, only to receive an elbow from Staples.

The Vertibird began to lower among a row of buildings, as Whitley moved to the front of the pack. He paused for a moment to take in the desolate city-scape as it disappeared behind a shattered office building. Finally, the craft touched down, emitting a 'thump' as it did so. Whitley turned to his squad to begin the operation.

"This is how we are doing this. Staples, Howard, you are with me. Davis, get yourself to some high ground and keep this bird secure. Keep your comms running at all times. Any questions?"

Whitley paused, waiting for someone to speak up, when that didn't happen he continued.

"I don't want to spend too long down here, so the quicker we do this the better." The major turned back to the ramp and gripped his plasma rifle, as he began to stride down the ramp. This city may have been nothing more than a smoldering crater now, but the hopes of the Enclave relied on the execution of this operation, the 'American Dream' rested on how this mission played out. No one was going to interfere with this mission, Whitley would make sure of it personally. Making the 'forward' signal with his hand, the major sliced his hand through the air as his voice droned in over the squad comms system.

"Omega squad, move out."

* * *

 **Author Notes: Hey all, I know it's been a long time, but I ran into a RL stuff as usual. I hope you all enjoyed the story, please feel free to leave a review. Until next time guys, thank you again for you time!  
**


	22. Hitting the Fan

**Author Notes: Hello all, I would like to thank you all again for reading my story. Due to school and RL I've had to cut back on my writing, but I am planning on pushing out the next two chapters much sooner. So please, enjoy this new chapter, and please leave a review and tell me what you think I can do better on. Thank you all again for the support.**

* * *

"Why don't you come with me?"

He offered his hand out to her and smiles, even now after all he had been through today he still seemed hopeful. She feels herself tempted by such an offer. A way to be free from her father? Away from this…cramped and claustrophobic environment; and with someone that actually cared for her to boot. They had joked about such things for years, but now for it to be a reality… it felt surreal. All she had to do was take his hand, and they could run off into the sunset; just like all those holofilms they had watched together. Amata slowly extends her hand, but stops as she finally realizes the futility of it. Yes, they would be together, but for how long? They weren't even sure if it was survivable out there, or what even existed beyond radroaches out on the surface. What if he died? What would she do then? They only had one real weapon, and she had no combat skills to rely on. All she would be was dead weight, and might even get him killed. John saw her hesitation, as she saw the hope that swelled in his eyes slowly fade; and it hurt her to see that. She places her extended hand over her heart, as an ache began swell in her chest. She had to force the words out, and every syllable made her stomach turn.

"It's tempting, but... my place is here. The Vault needs me more than you do. I'm the only one who has a chance to talk some sense into my father."

That was only a half-truth, but she hoped he would see her reasoning. He had to right? His hand drops to his side, as his gaze slowly fell away from her. He wasn't mad, she knew that much, but she knew he was hurting and so was she. She wanted to embrace him, to just hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay, but that was a dead end. She knew if she did that neither one of them would want to say good bye. He looks at her for only a moment and nods, as the great vault door opens with a loud squeal behind him. John turns toward the opening and takes a single step before stopping. He looks back at her one last time, his eyes practically pleading with her to come with him.

"Go on. Before anyone comes. Find your dad."

She pauses awkwardly, as the cursed 'l' word nearly slips out. _Say it,_ a small part of her demands, but her logical side takes hold.

"I'll... I'll miss you. You've been a good friend."

He smiles slightly and begins to step back, a few weak beams of sunlight shine from behind John. He stood there just staring at her, nothing to his name but a blood speckled vault jumpsuit, a semi functional pistol, and a baseball bat.

"I'll miss you too Amata…."

A few muffle shouts stir the young lovers from their moment, as a pounding sound comes from behind a sealed door to Amata's back. They both jump from the disturbance, as Amata swore she felt her heart leap out of chest.

"Hurry! He's opened the vault!"

"I'm trying, but the damn seal is stuck!"

She winces at hearing that. Even knowing that John was planning on leaving, her father still wanted to dispose of him. By the time, she returns her focus on John, he was crossing the threshold of the large cog shaped opening before her. The door behind her began to open with an almost deafening whine, as she can hear the frenzied shouting of her father now. Knowing there wasn't much time left, the young woman rushes back to the controls and begins the process of closing the door; if this was the only other way to help John, then so be it. She looked up from the panel, as her hand rests on the switch, she hesitates to flip it. Her gaze looks back over to John, as he stands there at the entrance, perhaps trying to savor this last moment he could share with her. The sting of tears began to come to fruition in Amata's eyes, as she flipped the switch. Her last act of love for John, the one that had been there for her through all those years in this hellhole, was to sentence him to a fate worse than death. She didn't want to think of it, she couldn't imagine the pain he was feeling at this moment. Even as the sirens went off once more, and vault security began to swarm the room, Amata could still see John's shadow from the other side of the door. She cried out one last message to her lover, as a pair of vault security officers dragged her off the control console.

"Promise me you'll come back!"

She manages to get out, before one of the guards pulls her away from the door controls. Word's couldn't express the sorrow she felt, even as he shouted back to her.

"I will!"

That was the last thing she heard before the door clamped shut that day. The ensuing clanging of the steel bolts locking together tore through her. It was then, at that moment, that Amata knew their lives would never be the same again.

* * *

The whirling alarms of the vault's security protocols brought back a distant memory for the young overseer of Vault 101. Amata blinked back tears as she put the past aside, and prepared herself to lead her small group into a new era. She looked behind her, at the pack of two dozen vault dweller's that waited nervously for the door to finish opening. It seemed to take a life time, but when the seal finally was wrenched off, the sound of metal grinding on metal made her teeth clench in discomfort at the tortured sound. A few murmurs went through the gathering of vault dwellers, mostly those of disbelief or fright. Knowing what had to follow, Amata looked to her father for a brief moment, before shoving her way to the front. The faint beams of sunlight felt warm against Amata's back, as she faced everyone she had known in her entire life. All eyes fell upon the young Almadovar, as they eagerly awaited what to be told next.

"Fellow Vault Dweller's. The time has come to embark upon the future. Today, we leave behind out old home, to venture out and create a new one. This past few years, have seen a great deal of hardships fall upon us all…"

Amata's train of thought lapsed as a few haunting memories sprung to mind, but she quickly regained focus.

"But, I believe that together we can stride to be a new people, a better people, and ensure a better future for all. I know these times will be even harder on us, but that's why we are all here together. We will build a new home for ourselves on the surface world together, and it is because of that reason that I know we will succeed. It's time that we embrace the future, together as residents of Vault One-O-One.".  
A halfhearted cheer came from small group of survivors from the vault, as Amata sighed and moved towards the rickety door that held them back from a freedom their people had not felt in over two hundred years.

* * *

Sarah peeked her head out from behind the wall, as she checked to ensure the squad had passed by. She shot a glare at her old friend and scowled. Sarah recognized that they were just outside the same room she had woken up at, yet her companion was insistent on coming up here.

Ashur was far too busy fiddling with the lock on a large wooden door to notice Sarah's disapproval. "Ashur, what the hell are we doing here?" She hissed.

"I need to get something. Won't take me but a minute here…got it!"

With a subtle pop, the battered piece of wood creaked open. The gray-haired warrior was the first one to move in, with Sarah trailing behind. The room was the same as the last time Sarah had been here, except for one thing; a large metallic device had been placed in the center of the room. Sarah had seen such devices before, but she couldn't name what it was for the life of her. Wanting to look closer, she crept forward, only to be stopped by Ashur grabbing her shoulder.

"Don't." Ashur spoke, his voice just above a whisper.

Sarah looked hard into the man's eyes, trying to understand the situation. The only thing she found within was fear, and that was enough for her to back off. The sentinel moved behind the ex-paladin, as she studied the device from a distance. It was shaped like a top, with its 'spinner' pointed upwards, was enclosed entirely out of metal; speckled and corroded from the years of stagnation.

"Ashur, what is that?" She whispered back, as she still could not place a name with this thing. The gray-haired man turned to her and scowled.

"The last active nuclear weapon in the Pitt." He replyed.

"Very observant of you, Ashur."

The steely tone of the general shattered the tense silence before it even took hold. Sarah and Ashur diverted their attention towards the origin of the voice, but found there was nothing to be seen. The pair drew their weapons at once, as they scanned the room for the general. Ashur's face contorted into one of rage, as the ex-paladin scanned the room with his handgun.

"Cyrus! Show yourself! You're going to pay for what you've done to my people!"

Sarah realized the distortion just a moment too soon, as the bulking form of Cyrus phased into existence; directly behind Ashur. Sarah turned and brought her rifle to bare, as she shouted a warning to the older man.

"Ashur! Behind-"

Ashur was much faster than Sarah had expected, as the grizzled warrior spun about and brought the muzzle of his gun directly into his attacker's chest. Unfortunately for Ashur, Cyrus was faster, much faster. The general shoved the dethroned king's gun arm upward, as a shot fired off into the ceiling. Ashur attempted to disengage from the struggle, as Sarah brought her sights upon Cyrus's exposed head. Cyrus threw a punch into Ashur's chest, as a loud crack filled the room. Ashur was sent hurtling backwards, his body stopping only when it impacted against the desk; snapping the wooden construction in half.

"Ashur!"

Sarah fired off a slug from her rifle, but missed as Cyrus' sudden movement moved her aim just out of line. She attempted to readjust her shot, the weapon refused to cycle her shot; the deadbolt was jammed! Sarah dropped the rifle and moved back, her back pressed against the wall as she went for the 14mm on her thigh. Cyrus leapt at her, and Sarah narrowly dodged to the right, as the power armored man crashed through the wall. Sarah rolled through the door way, and was back on the catwalk. She leapt to her feet, and slammed into something solid; halting her immediately. Lyons stumbled back and froze as she found herself in a new plight. A lone man in power armor blocked her path, the sloppily painted Brotherhood insignia on his breastplate loudly announced his allegiance, as Sarah found the man's laser pistol was trained on her.

"I got her general!" The muffled voice of the man shouted. Sarah scowled and took a step back, as she searched for an escape. She spotted it on the first floor, a large cluster of pipes near one of the forges would provide her a place to avoid detection. Instinct took over, and seeing only one possible solution, Sarah leapt over the side. She was stopped abruptly when an unseen force snatched her by the back of her neck. Before she knew what hit her, Sarah felt herself be launched up and into the overseer's office. Her head was spinning, as every ounce of her being demanded she'd fight back, but her body had the solidity of jelly.

"I think not, Sentinel Lyons." The cold, mechanized voice of Cyrus spoke, as his blurry figure loomed towards her.

* * *

"Okay, this is just bullshit."

A missile sailed overhead of Omega Squads current position, as Aran could have sworn she felt her teeth rattle inside her helmet.

"Staples stow it, we expected resistance-"

"Yea, but not anything close to this!"

She bit back, as she fired off a series of shots from her plasma defender. Their attackers pressed on, as they unleashed laser and missiles from up above upon them. Whitley attempted to move to a more fortified position up ahead, only to receive a tag to his shoulder plate from a lucky laser shot. The major let out a gasp as he staggered back to safety, as his right shoulder sizzled from the blast.

"Christ, major are you okay?"

Aran spoke, as she moved to his side. The desolate building, they were using as cover was slowly being shot away, as part of the wall to their left was blown away. Howard moved to cover the new gap without being told, only to be assailed from all sides by weapons fire as his reward.

"Yea, I'm fine." He grunted, as even through their comms channel, Staples could tell he was not.

"They have a sniper out there…."

"Well, fortunately so do we. Shawn, take them out." She barked, only to receive the typically 'Hmpf' of the sniper in response. The fire raining down on the trio's position dwindled in little time, as Aran only heard the shots ping out from over Shawn's open comms. She was far more concerned with tending to her commander. When she began to inspect the damage, Aran's fears had been confirmed; Whitley's armor had been struck right at its juncture. The laser shot had burnt right through the bone and out the other side of the armor. The major was in no shape to continue the mission, especially with a suit breach. Under normal conditions, any indication of breach resulted in ejection from a mission, with at least a days' worth of radaway treatments; though they hardly had the resources for that now. Howard took a position over them; his armor still smoldering from the constant barrage of heavy weapons fire. As only a pair of automatic fire clattered against their armored casing, the weapon specialist was completely unfazed, as he mowed down the remaining defenders with a burst from his Vulcan laser. With the last of the attacker's dead, a silence fell about the area, Aran held her breath until Shawn's voice spoke over the comms.

"All hostiles in this area are down. Sniper is nowhere to be seen."

Whitley gave a half stagger back to his feet, though the burnt metal about his shoulder indicated that his suit had been breached, causing Aran to have to force the Major back down.

"Lieutenant, stand down." He ordered, as even behind their helms she could feel his red-hot gaze searing into her. She had to admire his commitment, she couldn't even imagine the pain he must have had been in right now; and checking his vitals she was shocked he was still conscious.

"Sorry sir, can't do that. You know the rules. You've got a breach, you have to go back."

The major's seared shoulder attempted to move, and was brought to an abrupt halt, as Whitley's pained shout tore through their comms. "Damn it!"

Aran scowled at her commander's discomfort, and the spike in vital signs that came with it, and withdrew her supply of med-x from her kit. She took a moment to properly inject it into his suit's medical systems, then waited to see the update come through on her end. The medication seemed to have done its job, as Whitley eased back into his original position. Whitley signed a 'thank you' with his one good hand, provoking a small smile from the medical officer.

"Alright, change of plans." Whitley groaned. "Lieutenant Staples is taking charge. Davis, Howard, you listen to her. I'm pulling back to the extraction point, just raise us and we'll come and pick you three up. Try to minimize the damage to the facility, and eliminate all hostiles."

With a helping hand from Howard, Aran watched as her commander stumbled to his feet; his wounded arm hung lamely at his side, passing Aran his rifle with his one good arm. "Keep me updated. I'll…do what I can." The Major muttered, as he shuffled his way to towards their LZ. Before he was even more than three paces away, Staples opened her comm to Davis.

"Shawn, be a dear and make sure our major makes it back in one piece." She asked, as she threw a glance to where she had last seen him.

"You're just a slave driver today aren't you, Miss Staples?"

"I thought you liked it when I bossed you around, Mister Davis?"

"Only when you by me dinner beforehand." He replied back, and before Aran could give him a piece of her mind he was already gone.

The medical officer scoffed and kept her plasma defender handy. She looked to the rather stoic Howard and nodded. "Alright big guy, just you and me. You take lead, I'll watch your flank." Aran frowned when the Gunnery Sargent merely nodded and pressed forward without a word. She never cared for the silent types.

His knuckles were white as he clenched the rifle in his hands. Enclave? Here? John's mind flashed in rapid succession, as over a year of rage induced memories threatened to overwhelm him. He was pretty sure he had killed the one he had shot, and only his common sense kept him from killing the rest of them. He needed a distraction after all, and those rust buckets would serve as an excellent distraction. John banished the thought of everything Enclave related from his mind, as he released his death grip on his weapon and moved from his hiding spot. He would tell the Elder all about it once the time was right. The small squad of four, that had guarded the factory entrance, had shifted to defending from whatever the hell had taken out their perimeter guard. He smiled devilishly and swooped into position, and nimbly avoided unwanted attention.  
He smirked as he calmly slid the door open The Wanderer was not been prepared for the power armored gauntlet that greeted him on the other side of the door. The attack caught John flatfooted, as wooden slivers of what remained of the entryway flew past him. The armored hand clenched his throat tightly, as John could feel it's servo's seeking to crush his neck. The attacker, from which this hand belonged to, shoved its way through the door, shattering what was left and ruining any chance of stealth that the Wanderer was hoping for. The armor was similar to the ones John had spotted at the gate, but a large golden emblem was painted on this one's breastplate.

"Another one of you rats?"  
An automated yet feminine voice spoke, as John felt the servo's beginning to tighten, and the gauntleted arm lifted him off the ground, as his laser rifle clattered away from him. The Wanderer had combated such situations before. He snatched his knife from its sheath in a blinding speed, and drove it into the underside of the armored gauntlet; causing the woman inside to drop him as a wave of pain washed over her. John's knife was still jammed in the joint, and as the power armored foe before him took a step back; it's focus now was to tear the knife out from its hand. John made great haste to collect his rifle, only to stumble to the ground as he found it impossible to breath.

He could feel his lungs screaming for air, as they burned with the agony of a plasma shot. As the former vaulter dweller attempted to guzzle down air as best he could, his heavily armor foe tossed his knife to the ground; it's edge still dripping from the fresh blood. He watched in horror as his attacker lumbered towards him, hands outstretched to finish what it had started. John fell onto his back as he struggle to reach the laser rifle just a few inches away, his attacker was upon him. Just before the gauntleted hands of his attack could find his throat once more, a missile sailed overhead and slammed into one of the nearby buildings. The resulting explosion shook the two beneath it, but also sent chunks of brick and mortar sailing down upon them. John scampered out of the way, as his attacker raised her hands to defend herself, only to find herself entombed by the debris; unable to move. As the Lone Wanderer laid there, he panted and attempted to catch his breath, as he slowly collected his weapons while catching his breath.

John could hear a string of profanity coming from underneath the rubble as it shifted slightly. It seemed that the woman that had tried to kill him was still stuck in there, John noticed one free gauntlet waved about in a fury from the rubble pile; she was now at his mercy. Rather than attempt to kill a helpless opponent, he pressed on into the factory. He had already done enough senseless killing today, as he muttered a small prayer of thanks for whoever or whatever had saved him.

* * *

The pressure of a laser pistol against her temple was something Sarah Lyon's had only felt once, when Paladin Gunny wanted to make a demonstration about how much being a hostage sucked. Never before had she pictured this being how it ended, as the deranged elderly man before her stared into her with those dead blue eyes of his. She wasn't sure why he hadn't killed her, nothing was stopping him, and he had two power armored guardians holding her down. Despite the disturbances coming from outside the building, Cyrus only seemed fixated on her. Sarah stared defiantly back, perhaps part of her wanting the man to shoot her, and yet another part of her was terrified of what waited beyond for her. Either way, the man's gaze was unsettling even for her.

Sarah mustered up a few words, as she glared into the soulless orbs of Cyrus. "You are fucking insane."

This only prompted the Brotherhood General to laugh.

"Insane? No, visionary? Yes. Yes, that is what I am."

He mumbled in responds, as Sarah felt the laser pistol leave her temple. Cyrus gestured about the air with the weapon as he rambled on.

"See little Lyons, you have to break it to build it back up. The old world was flawed, so I will remake it anew."

Cyrus paused, as if he was trying to recall something else. "But, you humans refuse to understand! You keep trying to rebuild what doesn't exist! You need a strong and steady hand to show you the truth!" The general was practically shouting now, as he took Sarah's cheeks in his armored hand and forced her eyes upon his. "We are that hand. My Brotherhood is the answer."

Sarah scowled and attempted to break free of the grip.

"Your deranged! Your nothing more than dignified raiders!"

She shouted, as the factory shook. Sarah felt her guard's grip on her lessen, as perhaps the explosions made them uneasy. _Is this not their own forces? Are they under attack?_ She thought quietly, as she tried to read Cyrus' expression. Whatever the old man seemed focused on must have been damned important, as his face soften to the most pitiful look Sarah had seen.

"Is that what you really think my dear? After all the hard work, I put into making our dream a reality?"

Sarah blinked, as her mind was slowly starting to reconnect the dots. What the hell was he on about? A muffled groan from behind her distracted the deranged general, as Cyrus moved past Sarah and dragged the battered body of Ashur before her.

"Tell me, why do you fight for pitiful things such as this?"

Cyrus spat, as he hung Ashur up limply by his arm. Blood streaked down his face, and the chest plate on his armor was split cleanly in two. He would live, but he was not in the best shape as it was. Sarah glared daggers into the madman before her.

"Because that is what the Brotherhood does. We defend people who can't protect themselves. Not use our power to force them into submission!"

Sarah had to resist the urge to lunge at the man, but her captors had not completely released her, as she felt their hands still firmly clasping her shoulders. The so called general scoffed as he dropped Ashur to the floor.

"And yet, here I am. Holding both of you at my mercy. Who is the superior force dear? Who will survive longer in this wasteland?"

He spoke with such enthusiasm in his voice, and Sarah came to believe that this man truly believed what he was saying. Cyrus' face twisted into a demented grin.

"I can tell you this. It is not you, or your childish hopes that will survive.".

The white-haired lunatic spun away from Sarah, his armor's gyros whirling with every motion. The general paused and nudged Ashur's writhing body out of his path, before taking a few steps away from the restrained Lyons. Cyrus paused and released a deep sigh.

"As I said before, you have to break it down and start again.".

Though Sarah could only see his back, the general seemed to slump under his own weight, as he reached a conclusion.

"I originally planned to eliminate you once I got my hands on you, but I remember now that I have a second option. Once we return you back to our back, we can begin your 'Reeducation'."

Sarah shot towards the man once more, catching her two restrainers by surprise. She was nearly upon Cyrus before the power armored guards halted her charge.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Sarah lashed out, as she was swiftly subdued. Cyrus casually turned towards the Sentinel as her captors pinned her down.

"I made a promise, and I'm not going to let anyone interfere with it.".

He paused a moment, before moving towards the warhead.

"This weapon…. this is what I came looking for to complete my conquest of my nation. Once I have you, and this weapon under my control, not even those savages from the West will be able to resist me. Take her to my vehicle. We are leaving soon."

Cyrus mumbled to himself, but Sarah kept her eye on him. Her guards were beginning to hoist her up, and with the new adjustment to her height, she noticed something that made her grin. A small red dot lingered right at the base of Cyrus' neck, but neither the general or his lackeys seemed to pick up on it. Her eyes wandered to the window that revealed the rest of the facility, knowing that John was somewhere out there. Lyon's knew then and there what she was going to do, as she dropped her head; feigning defeat as her captors began to move her out of the room.

* * *

John held the rifle still as he lined up the shot. It was a difficult target he was aiming for, as given his marks position in the room, he had only a small window of opportunity, but the elderly man adorned in power armor seemed like the one in given how his two subordinates were acting. He held his breath, as he laid the muzzle of the rifle upon the metal hand railing before him; the metal began to glow red hot as the rifle's battery pack began to heat it. A low hum began to come from the rifle's firing chamber, as John charged up the shot. "Here's to early retirement." John mumbled, as his finger squeezed off the trigger.

* * *

 **Author Notes: Thank you once again for reading this story, and please if you could leave a review with your thoughts and opinions of this chapter or this work as a whole. I hope to have the next chapter pushed out much quicker, but thank you all for the support. See you soon.**


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